Draped

I think it’s time

To fold this up

And put it away

I can make space

In a lower drawer

If I finally

Accept the throwing

Away of certain things

Too many years

Spent accumulating

Not enough purging

As if one day

I may find use

For the random

Fractured, dysfunctional

Debris of days past

Gorged to the point

Of suffocating, bursting

At the seams

With things given

Sometimes taken

Often forced upon

Relinquishing to the

Pacifying illusion of

Out of sight, out of mind

And denying the ways

Those things still

Cling to me