Things I Keep In a Box (Poem)

magazine cut-outs of cakes

puzzle pieces of Disney princesses

erasers in the shapes of hamsters

snowman made of cotton balls

magnifying glass the size of a toddler’s fist

with Barbie dolls and accessories

candy wrappers, faded

balloons with wrinkled smiles

mismatched Teddy Bear eyes

baby teeth, black holes in the middle

of shells that echo waves I’ve never seen

shredded soap from a continent away

moon rocks from construction sites

flowers from my neighbor’s garden, withered

candle from a church I no longer visit

letters I didn’t write, burned at the edges

ink-stained handkerchiefs

two halves of a whole mirror

cracked marbles like globes

a plastic pearl necklace, I never touched again

a silver shoe from a board game I played alone

hair ties for hair my mother never braided

hand-me-down black tights, wounded at the heels

beads from a bracelet I pulled apart

an empty heart locket