Return To Sender

 

It’s finally leaving-

Working itself out of my system

These hours are no longer consumed

By thoughts of a life not mine.

 

I laugh at myself a little

While packing up this box of ‘maybe’

Wondering how it got so full

Of invisible tangibles and presumed affections.

 

These things were never meant for me-

Delivered to the wrong mind.

So I return them to the unknown sender

Hoping the package reaches it’s intended target.

 

Each mistaken gift was well cared for-

And set upon a shelf like fine china

For would be admirers to inspect

And to wish these gifts theirs.

 

Laughing still at my naïve gaffe

How could I accept a delivery not addressed to me?

How do you stake claim to something

That was never freely given to you?

 

The parcels I signed for & took on as my own

Were from one breathless soul mate to another.

Gifted out of intimacy and history

And not by accident or on a whim of silly emotion.

 

Still I ponder when the spell came over me

The bewitching that glazed over my eyes.

When did I decide that my name was hers

So I could steal your doting for myself?

 

Maddening, this process is

Of giving back a life & treasures

That were temporarily lost in transit

Yet made their mark while they sat idle.

 

Played for a fool I hope I was not

But a fool I must be to have read false intentions.

The illegible handwriting was mysterious

With promises of danger & intoxicating adventures.

 

The shelf couldn’t hold the precious cargo any longer-

Overwhelmed by the weight, it simply buckled.

The sound of the crash released me from the spell-

And gave me a jolt to my system and re-started my heart.

 

Some of the pieces are broken-

But you can make them new for your beloved.

Some of them are completely whole-

Ready to be given to the muse who feeds you.

 

“Fragile”, one side of the box says-

“Handle with care” on the other side.

Sent first class and overnighted

Will guarantee safe delivery by morning.

 

Out of my thoughts and back into yours

Contents secure for the one who deserves them.

But hiding in the broken pieces and forwarded on-

Are the faint traces of me that now belong to you.

 

 

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