declutter high

My body wants to go, go, go and get busy clearing things out of my house, out of my life, my heart beating desperately for a new start as my hands create space for it.

I wish I could clean the blemishes of endings off my mind as easy as I do the stains of past parties on my walls. But with time it seems the memories become too precious to waste, as if my heart couldn’t possibly taste such sweetness again. I suppose there are some things we’ll never be able to scrape off the mind, so it’s best to learn to sit with it, to surrender and answer the door when it shows up to pay a visit.

Maybe it’s not just about getting rid of things.

Maybe it’s about making space for what’s to come and

making peace with what stays.

Categories Creative Writing, ProseTags , , , , , , , , , , ,

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