Boxes

Ten years.

Ten years of memories
Of growing up
Of changing
Of life
Of death
Of friends
Of family.

Ten years.

All into boxes.

Slowly, the pieces fade.
The walls are emptied.

Half a lifetime
Fitting in a pile of boxes.

And I don't know where the boxes will go
Or how they'll be unpacked
Or what remains intact
Or how long it will take
Or how long it will last

Or if it will feel like home.