Poetry is on hold
I'm moving
Every thought that decorated my wall
every chair that I repositioned every day
every corner that decided
how every other corner would look
is dismantled
Junk and gifts disassembled
temporarily homeless
purposeless
I almost want to start all over
but I haven't in a long time
so instead of trashing everything
I just start relocating it
and think about pride for a while
until I break and reach out
For three days straight
friendly hands moved me and I realized
I would much rather be grateful
than proud
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