The Box

And I sit here staring
at the empty screen
and the words simply
don’t come out.
They litter the floor
of this box
that surrounds me
head to toe
side to side
bottom to top.
Don’t get me wrong,
it’s a good box
that has served me well.
This box keeps me
smart
trustworthy
successful
compassionate
and grateful
for the straight lines and
detour free paths that
allowed me to reach
here.
And yet,
a good box
is still a box,
and the words that have fallen
into these corners and crevices
were the words that could never be said
for being too angry
too loud
too imperfect
simply too much.
They were words that
would have meant busting out
of cardboard walls
and taking up too much space
in a world that would prefer
a me that was smaller
and more contained.
But now I can’t breathe
and the echoes of these screams
seep through the seams,
and it is me,
all of me,
learning that any box
is too small,
any label is too narrow,
because we are all so much more
than even we know.
Soon I will know the sound
of my own voice
on the wind,
and soon I will stretch
my arms and legs and heart
and know, that finally,
I am free.

 

Posted in Poetry.

7 Comments

  1. 20171112am01:30 RTR :Dear Monisha Ji: Love your patience , Humbleness to Self created troubled Word.
    “Ji” world in Hindi Bhartiya, Asian Indian literatures: Represents Utmostlove, Respect, Closeness, Caring meaning for Addressed Person & that is for YOUR HER HIGHNESS. Say Hallo to my dear friend Vasa families.

  2. Thank you, Monisha, for your Friday night poem. “Any box is too small…” You have such a beautiful, clear way of expressing such deep feelings, feelings I (and i imagine so many others) have felt at one time or another. I so support you in your leaving your box, in being free!

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