Steel Box

There was a steel box I placed my soul in,

I poured out my thoughts like liquid jewels,

Arranged fragile glass hopes for the future

Wrapped in newspapers and return to sender mail.

My magic box was my only friend,

The sole provider of comfort

A neverending source of cool cloths

Upon my forehead and recounts

Of advice not listened to, that I should.

Tracing in my ear the lines of my

Future, a soft silhouette of promise.

My steel box left me.

It vanished on a Saturday,

Leaving only the imprints

Of its heavy body upon the carpet

I was left

Clutching at my heart

To pull it back into my ribcage

So it would not fly away too.

My insides were spilled in disarray upon the floor

As I piled them in my lap and arms, and stared at nothing

but chaos and the warped shadow of death.