Every couple of years, my mother, restless in retirement
instructs me to sort through my belongings, allegedly
so I may keep stock of what I have, but quietly hoping
that I relinquish the junk that cluttered the house for too long
This is typically an exercise in futility—but she is insistent
more so than usual; under her watchful eye, I slide from under the bed
the dust-coated cardboard box containing my life
in pictures, paraphernalia, promises from a past passed
Scattered on top is a cornucopia of memories ascribed onto
otherwise meaningless ticket stubs and receipts
that I am loath to discard, even though the ink has faded
and I cannot tell them apart
Beneath these, a box of country flag erasers and a sack of marbles
both acquired after triumphant battles in the schoolyard
a jar of baby teeth, rattling, yellowed, stained
stored for over two decades as a memento of my childhood
Tucked underneath, an expired passport contains proof
that my visits to faraway lands are not mere figments of imagination
holding these objects, I am struck with a sudden epiphany
cornered by the past, I have no room for the present
The deeper I dig, the more comes to light. I journey
down the rabbit hole of cursed memories; my joy turns to sorrow
as I pick out a Polaroid with peers I no longer speak to
a souvenir from a country I have never visited
A scrap of note paper, covered in inappropriate doodles
a stuffed toy, promising love neverlasting
a letter from an ex, filled with saccharine lies
a horde of matter, hoarded, that no longer matters
‘Keep how long liao? Time to throw away lah.’
with distance comes sense; with ambivalence
I watch practicality trump sentiment
as my life is sorted into piles of keep, don’t keep, donate
The first, tarped and labelled, is shoved back under the bed
the second is unceremoniously dumped next to the trash receptacle
the third finds new life for the bits and pieces that
made me, but no longer define me.
I wait for the inevitable sense of loss and longing to descend
but it never comes; instead
with the boxes set aside
I felt free, unburdened—
deeply grateful for the present I did not ask for
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