Hannah Kelley

To do: please bury this 

In a box under my bed, I have a collection.

Its contents: everything.
 

There is a photograph of us smiling,

dressed as Hades and Persephone.
 

Today, I re-opened that box, as if it were a time capsule;
 

perhaps Pandora’s box is more accurate.

When I opened it, each letter you wrote spilled out

like an overflowing fountain.
 

I wanted to drape your drab grey hoodie
 

around me like a badge of honor again,

but I couldn’t do it.
 

The reason why I unearthed that box was to find
 

my copy of your favorite book,
The Art of War.

 

Today, I remembered that one day

you told me I reminded you of water,

because I blend in everywhere but don’t fit in anywhere.
 

I hated it when you said that
 

because it’s right about me,

but wrong about water.
 

Water fits in the ocean,

lakes, rivers, streams, pools.
 

Water
can
fit in anywhere,

It just needs to be held.

Did you want to become my container?

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