Boxes.

Boxes.

I live my life in boxes.

Never took out anything from the box

‘Cuz the place was never permanent.

Moving from one area to the next.

Sharing one room with everyone.

There’s no such thing as “personal space.”

The only “personal space” I got

Was the thoughts I kept in my head.

Birthdays, sleepovers, and hangouts

Were out of the question.

A childhood that was not ideal.

 

But what I learned as a nomad,

A dollhouse doesn’t represent a home.

A home is wherever your family is.

Sharing isn’t just about giving food or toys to someone,

But the willingness to sacrifice your comfort with someone.

In a room, I value the noisiness,

But I appreciate the silence.

And any roof over your head

Is better than none at all.

 

But now, I can unbox.

‘Cuz this home is permanent.

There will still be some sharing and noise

—And still no such thing as “personal space.”

Yet this home will be filled with

Birthdays, sleepovers, games nights, and holidays.

 

But I still live my life in boxes though—

Yet now, I have a permanent address to write down.

© LynLynSays 2018

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