As I stood there,
cleaning my closet,
In the middle of a bunch of lovely trinkets—
I realised, I had baggage.
A lot of it. It wasn’t just stuff.

It wasn’t just an old sweater,
—It was the smell of him.
And perhaps the lovely necklace
that reminded me of school—
Or the cutest folded letter I forgot
Someone gave me, years ago..

How could I let go?

But it was moving day.

Boxes weren’t that large to fit everything.

I had to choose.

Which ones would stay..


               And which….  

                          
                              I had to let go.