#packing
It's still summer somewhere
There'll be sunshine someplace
There's hope over the horizon
So don't unpack your case
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 3:35 AM UTC
the day is approaching
faster and faster
the day I pack up all my stuff
put it into boxes
load it into the car
empty out my room
and drive for a couple of hours
I will unpack my life
into a tiny new room
that will be my home for a year
I'll look at my barren room
waiting to be decorated
and filled
I'll make it my own
no matter how I miss my home hours away
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 1:22 PM UTC
I'm giving you heads up.
That I have gathered my suitcase
folding and packing up my aromas that's sweetly
divinely me..
Cuz I've shared so many things.
About myself about my life but it's not nearly half of my daily things. Sometimes my days are filled and sometimes a little unfiltered.
But it's getting to a point that I feel I am consuming.
I am like a colorful rainbow of smoke
and as you take your puffs it can get you high.
So high that you may begin to forget to do the returning needed respectful things.
My examples shown.
I won't ask to be treated as I treat you.
But I'll just remove my me.
Respectfully.
Clearly see thru my soulful
Beauty. The fullness of me....
@_#Shardaye
Feb 3, 2024
Feb 3, 2024 at 7:40 PM UTC
I'm afraid
The darkness is closing in
Stealing my breath
Choaking me slowly
I'm afraid
Being pushed like a pin
Feeling like death
Not very holey
I'm afraid
I don't want to live alone
Empty, unfulfilled and lacking
That not the life I want to live
I'm afraid
The darkness, I own it
It wont let me forget when I'm packing
No matter where I want to live
I'm afraid
I'm afraid
I'm afraid
I'm afraid
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 10:39 PM UTC
I can pack all my belongings into a single bag
But I cannot condensed my thoughts into a single universe
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC
I can wipe away tears
and wrap my arms around a friend
to comfort him
when I am saying goodbye to someone I have known since the day I was born
but I cannot hide the turmoil so well
when I crouch on the bedroom floor
packing for him
getting ready to live without him.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
Did you notice as you were packing
I was too
Packing up things to give away
Shedding what we don’t need
Emptying the nest
Literally
And now the house is a mess
There are boxes all around
Books off their shelves
Things out of place
It’s not going to get better unless I take a stab
At cleaning
Organizing
Transitioning
Because the house is just a mess
Without you
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
my friends they ask me
why i haven’t packed.
i say i do not know.
when really it is quite obvious,
i have difficulties
with letting go.
before i pack all my belongings
before i’m ready to leave the nest
i must pack up my soul
and carry in it all i love.
i need to take with me
all those times my mom
made me chocolate chip pancakes.
i have to
memorize the faces of every one
of my friends
until i can recall each of
their smiles and traits.
i want to fold my grandpa’s laughter
like a shirt that i can tuck away
in the drawer of my mind.
and i want to hold on
to those moments,
the one’s that make letting go
so hard.
i think that if i manage
to pack up
every bit of my heart,
then it won’t matter
what i put inside my luggage.
i will always be carrying
home.
no matter how far
we are apart.
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
Today I go to pack my bags for what
I need in the journey ahead of me
A camera and four books (not quite a lot)
And enough songs to last me for a week
Then comes the clothing and the toiletries
Packed compacted to last for a fortnight
Then I'll pack some card based activities
And something soft for my head to rest right
And finally, a pen, pencil, and pad
For my first trip with this site that I have
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
This place is sad without you
It heaves a sigh
Emptying it of our things
Signifies the end of making memories here
The end of filling the air between these walls
With our voices, laughter
Sharing life
I want to load the memories onto a hard drive
And preserve them perfectly
So I won't forget them
I'm afraid to shut the door
And leave forever
Without you
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
the rooms cultivate together
the walls fold into each other
try to save it for sunnier weather
but i am too impatient
too eager to get this splinter out
when plumes of toxic feelings sprout
how do you walk away
from the things that protect?
will it ever be the day
the tremors stop melting all the clay?
in my mind the rain stings
it melts into my pores
it triggers the thoughts of
things i once cared so much for
it helps me see
right now might not be how it is
eventually
one day soon
i will lie down in the tall grass
and call out for the bright
warm rays of the sun
to take me into their force
and keep me as warm as i need
to survive in a place that fire
cannot thrive.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
Once again, we're set to head off,
all of our belongings cramped and boxed up.
We're hoping this will finally be our place to settle down,
but we'll keep our stuff like this,
just in advance for the next town.
It won't be our home and I know this,
we'll just have to leave again and again,
never finding a place that we'll actually fit,
but I'll keep these thoughts boxed up,
in order not to get my thoughts down.
We'll keep our stuff boxed up,
in order to be ready for the next town.
It's just a continous cycle of moving around.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
I used to think I knew what heartbreak felt like.
When I came home and saw my bed freshly made and your clothes were out of the closet.
When I saw there was one last cup of coffee left on he counter that you had time to drink.
When I saw the note and your words I barely had time to read.
Because I ran to the garage to see your car and your things were gone.
I used to think heartbreak was sitting alone in a cafe while you watched everyone laugh and smile.
Or walking around the grocery store trying to find food to make for one person.
Or dreaming of endless romantic vacations with you.. When there is no "you" once me.
But the minute I realized you had enough time to drink coffee and write me a note saying you were never coming back.
That's when I realized what real heartbreak was.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
I walk around my boxed up house
and carefully step around the edges,
scoot around the clutter and ignore the blankness
this house no longer feels much like home
not since the warmth of familiar things
have been boxed up, taken down or thrown away
it was all so sad how quickly
my home disappeared behind cardboard
and just became this temporary space before we move on,
just a place to sleep
I no longer look at a room and find its potential
or care too much about how it looks
because these aren't my rooms anymore
there is no future here between myself and these walls
it's bittersweet to think back on the memories made here
not all of them were good,
but not all were bad either
in the near two years spent here
we grew
together and apart
and back together again
turning a space from four walls to
a house we called home
the boxes are like a metaphor to my life,
to the unavoidable change that will occur in a few months,
change is in the air
and soon the long, hot, dog days of summer
are going to fade into colorful leaves sweeping the earth,
cool breezes in the window late at night,
and the end of summer, the last one of its kind for us, will be envitable
and
just like the time of the seasons
as the world slips into fall
our ending in this time of our lives
will slip suddenly through our fingertips and give way to something a new,
sudden yet almost unnoticeable
but also completely, irrevocably welcome
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
I'm ready to go home..
I open a bottle of wine,
That I've been saving for a special occasion.
I bought a package of smokes,
I turn my favorite tunes
I think I'm ready to start..
Opening boxes,
Folding clothes.
Sipping, smoking and singing
Closing boxes.
I'm almost ready to go outside..
Is dark and cold,
The last one
Sipping, smoking and singing
Closing doors.
I'm ready,
I'm ready to go.
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
Packing things into brown boxes.
Concealed memories in a cardboard funeral.
Harboring dust like it’s a trophy.
Time ticks
ticks
ticks
ticks away.
So much crammed into tight spaces.
Wrinkled and wrapped up just like it was placed.
The season on my face is fall.
Each tear swaying down like a fallen leaf.
Choking on how to say goodbye.
Adios.
Sayonara.
Au Revoir.
Aloha.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
i pack my life
the past 8 years
into boxes
and into a car
and as i drive off
i realize how
little and insignificant
you are in these years
and yet,
you were the most important memory.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
I’m learning to travel light. A backpack, a mandolin case, and a water bottle. That’s enough. A black skirt, an extra pair of wool tights, and a teeshirt big enough to sleep in. Headphones.
my sister asks me when and where and why I’m coming and going and leaving and staying
I’m packing up
I’m always packing up
but my suitcases are getting smaller, more efficient, less attached.
I can’t keep track myself
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
Lint and dust in every corner,
the **** of living builds in all
the nooks and cracks like
furniture for spiders.
The room is wilting;
The walls have been stripped
and slowly everything recedes
to the center of the room.
A monument to what was.
In this room, there was;
an art gallery,
a cave,
a studio,
an arcade,
a love shack!,
a study,
a library,
a concert hall,
a gym,
a dressing room,
a laboratory,
a cafe,
a theater,
a psych ward,
a photo booth,
a club,
and a home.
Now it moves elsewhere,
a box at a time. One-two,
a hamper of clothes,
a bag of cheap technology.
A poster. A picture.
An instrument.
A lot of instruments.
There was a heartbeat here,
and now I hope you can
invest in that.
Keep this room more than
a home. Above an enclosure.
Head and shoulders above;
this room holds legends.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC