bloggity blog, poetry

box person

We all walk around with boxes
Different materials sizes shapes
dimensions or interdimensional
impossible or closed lids

We search
maybe just strolling waiting to bump into
someone to put into our box

… wait!
…hear me out…

some people do not fit
we push them
pull them
tug and tuck and tape
but they are simply the wrong shape
For our box
for your box

sometimes we may try to trim a person down
try to cut their corners
mould their shapes
take off the parts that don’t fit
the parts that don’t fit our idea of perfection
but what happens when you clip a bird’s wings?
birds are meant to fly free
feathers whole and glistening
shivering in the wind they glide through

Less and more
big and small
too much
not enough
too this
too that

sometimes we change ourselves to fit another
sucking in
holding our breath
contortionist lover
I can fit
I swear!”
fish out of water
you will drown in dry air gasping

sometimes we put our box down for a while
tired of holding it
tired of being forced into that which we do not fit in
We Close Our Eyes
limbs aching
and enjoy the sun on our tired skin
warming like fruit ripening sweetly

we look…
like a cat curled and comfortable
someone has appeared
cosy toastie snuggled
your box person has arrived
and they fit you perfectly


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