Boxed

Empty boxes scavenged from
everywhere,
Piled randomly across
my path,
Hungrily awaiting the flotsam
and jetsam,
of an ended marriage.

Choices to make.

What goes with me into my new life?
What memories will help me grow?
Which are only souveniers
of sadness,
destined to bring that sorrow
into my future?

My choices.

Each one a step
Moving forward,
sliding back.

I choose to move forward,
not be dragged down
by memories made of lies.