In a dark, untouched corner I kept this box of mine
Never opened, never stirred, left it waiting for years
Then one day someone took my hand
And gently opened up that box of mine
I started to discover that I had so much to give away
Once stored safe inside this box
A parcel of joy, a collection of blessings, a spoonful of saccharine sweetness
A spread of letters all penned with my thoughts (personal thoughts)
A musical box that whiled time away
This box did not seem to have a bottom
I could give (away) and give (in) and maybe in the end give (up)
Then slowly I realised it did have a bottom
A bottom I was trying to create
I wanted to stop giving, be selfish and mean
To stop myself from getting hurt
Why should I keep giving my things away
It’s mine and mine alone
But that person seem to warrant those things
The care and concern and silly little things I made
I stretched my neck, and extended my hand
I wanted to take something back from that person’s box
Maybe I did take some, but it didn’t’ seem enough for me
It didn’t seem to satisfy my inner desires
A teaspoonful of thought,
a miniscule stopwatch (that stopped time from flowing on and on)
Then we argued over each other’s box
Then I wondered maybe I should have never shared those things of mine
Maybe I should have waited to open the box later on
Maybe things might not have been the same
Maybe right now, we’re both bound by chains,
Chains that neither of us can break
It’s stopping you from giving your all
And now
Maybe I should also stop myself from emptying out my box
One year.
P.S. Really this is just a bottle of bottled up thoughts, don’t pry, don’t ask, I like to just say it out, and full stop.
