out with the old

in my medicine cabinet,
dusty drugs from psychopharms
I haven’t seen in years.
in my upstairs closet,
clothes I don’t remember
having purchased.
on my vanity,
a hairbrush
on which the rubber
is disintegrating and
all the bristles are falling out
one by one.
in my pantry,
canned goods that even charities
won’t accept.
in my downstairs closet,
boxes of books
I haven’t laid eyes on
in 6-12 years.
in my heart,
feelings that refuse
to fully die, though I
kill them over and over.

shall I take all these
outdated things
and have a bonfire?
before you answer,
consider this: for every
tub of bathwater,
there’s a baby.
if I start throwing
things out,
how will I know
when to stop?

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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