Walk-In Closet

On my knees,
Folding socks.

Twenty pairs of pants
Hung,
Evenly spaced
On the bars.

It will descend into disarray with time.
Entropy is fine.

For now,
Everything is
Just The Way I Like It
(Or getting there,
At least).

There is an acidic ache,
Almost like heartburn,
Making me wince
Every so often.

Pain
Accompanied by flashbacks
Of the hours I spent

Frozen

Amongst piles of myself
In someone else’s home.

At a certain point,
Acceptance hung over me
Like an unforgiving weighted blanket.

If I felt like I was safe here,
I would feel moved to settle in.

But I’d already told the homeowner that,
Many times,
So I sat
Still.

. . .

My movement today is causing the heartburn.

This is what it feels like
When the warmth of home,
Real,
Safe,
Secure
Home,
Meets the cool metal walls
Of my former enclosure.

Expansion will win.

In the meantime,
Friction.

I know this feeling well by now, so
I will get back to folding my socks.