Put Away

When did I stop?

I turned off,

tuned out,
shut down
and left
my clothes and skin on the
beach of a previous
decade.

Two decades ago…

I put my things

down,
in a box under the bed
to gather dust
and rot.

I found other things to

pretend about,
to be annoyed about,
to be angry about.

I left my angst in the music,

my youth in wasted nights,
my joys in shallow pursuits,
but kept my sorrows
close.

It’s diluted now

in the haze of time,
but every once in a while
I peek in the box under the bed
and stare at the old photos,
the old letters,
the old trinkets of the days
before.

And wonder…

Why did I stop?