We don’t own anything in this world
But, we hold on to so many things
We stake our claims on the generous offerings
Of the universe, placing stickers on her bounty
Like they can be bought and sold… like things
But we can’t.
So, we dwell in our little apartments, bursting at the seams
Unable to let go
We were young when we bought the big red bed
Which squeaked every time we turned our backs
To each other, but, I didn’t mind it a bit, dear
Because, I wanted something to break the silence
When we had used up all the real words in our supply
We tossed and turned a lot those nights, straining
To touch our toes under the rosy red cotton sheets
Hoping to drown out the sorrys, slowly moving
Towards each other with every little squeak
But, those are just twists on memory lane now
And, none of it really mattered much in the end
Because, you never owned up to any of your doings
And, you packed up your things and I took the bed
Because, You. Didn’t. Want. It. Anymore.
So, I painted it a fresh coat of white and changed
The sheets to a cheery yellow or blue or green?
It doesn’t really matter one bit, dear, because
We don’t own anything in this world
But, we hold on to so many things, bursting at the seams
Hoping they will make us happy one day
Unable to let go

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