The mess keeps piling up. <br />In the storage room <br />the number of empty boxes <br />keeps growing. <br />In the wardrobe <br />the number of outfits that are <br />too small, too big <br />keeps increasing. <br />In the corners which are <br />always too neglected, <br />the dust just keeps <br />building up <br />until I cough myself <br />half-dead. <br />On the kitchen counters <br />the food stains <br />are getting harder <br />to remove. <br /> <br />The mess keeps piling up. <br />More and more useless information <br />is congesting the current <br />of my brain nerves. <br />More and more memories <br />are weighing me down <br />until light innocence <br />is too burdened to move. <br /> <br />And so we clean things <br />and throw things <br />and hopefully - recycle. <br />Chuck out the old and moldy <br />the dusty, outdated <br />so we have more room <br />for the new. <br />But it feels like <br />carving out brain-bits <br />Particles of the past. <br />Erasing the evidence <br />for my memories <br />so I may doubt <br />that they existed. <br />So maybe <br />my past was always <br />wrong <br />if it must be <br />deleted. <br /> <br />I don't like throwing things away.<br /><br />Yiling Ding<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-cleaning-5/
