Ficlets

Cardboard

My box is marked
With all the crap I’ve done
Labeled and stitched in the lining
I pick it up and fall to the ground

Beaten up and packaged away
Looking up and there is no light
Holes filled with pain and regrets
This is my past

The tape is too thick for me to rip
I can’t get out of my prison
Pretending gets old and I’m left in ruins
Rotting away in all the cardboard

View this story's 4 comments.