The drawers are filled, the table is *****.
It’s way past dinner time,
and I’ve got to be up at six-thirty.

Chaos and clutter,
deception and illusion.
My heart no longer flutters,
after the past’s contusion.

I take a step back and think to myself.
“I’ll just start here, and dust off this shelf.”

And so, I clean it up.
But then the realization comes.
Maybe for today,
after that little victory,
I might be a little closer to finally feeling I am worth more than enough.

A little less mess,
I must confess,
has now gone a long way.

Now my walls are all clean.
The table is no longer dusty.
This heart of mine,
I once thought could be never again be salvaged again is no longer rusty.

Once I look around,
I realize in the journey to tidying up,
it was not just some cleanliness,
but actually, myself I had found.