Wait Till The Snow Melts

I carry my world with me

within me

and no I don’t mean it in a narcissistic way 

that i am the world

or worse so that i am my world 

it’s just that everything around me 

seeps right in 

your body has two pathways 

and I leave my gates 

wide open 

the brain, the less important one

it filters through 

the number of apples I need in my fridge

and how I ran out of ink while filling my journal

unlimited grocery lists 

and the dull lull of the 

bus I take to work

numbers and dates

useless statistics

do I need to pee before I leave?

you know, the specifics

and at last 

the heart

where the door leads to a dingy little room 

that gets full at the end of 

every December

mine has enough space 

for one tear soaked tissue right now

and then it will be filled to the brim 

and I will be forced to shut the door

the frost will no longer be allowed to enter 

the lock shall stay till 

the ink has seeped illegible 

and the sharp corners have rounded

when the photographs will have faded

and the names, unfamiliar once more

i don’t know how long it will take 

could be the next minute

or year

possibly forever

but one day, when the floor is swept clean 

heartbreaks buried

and the light will have room to dance

the door…the door! 

it will swing on its hinges again. 

let the frost evaporate,

won't you?