TOSS

I clean my wardrobe

I pick up the green t-shirt.

I toss it over my shoulder.

I turn to see it fall.

It falls to the sound of the train.

I see myself at the station, just fresh out of my first day at work

I celebrate. I buy a green t-shirt.

Something scratches my fist.

I bleed. I flinch. I pick it up.

It’s an earring with a missing white stone.

The red stone mocks at me.

I wipe my bleeding hand and focus on my bleeding heart.

I hear voices; Voices of a one I held very dear.

I take her into the shop. I show her the earring

She gifts it on my birthday.

I treasure it. It symbolises our friendship.

The white stone falls off the day she walks out of our room.

She has had enough of our friendship she says.

She leaves. The earring and an aching heart remain.

I look at them: the earring and the aching heart and the bleeding hand.

I wipe the hand, soothe the heart and toss the earring into the past.

I clear my wardrobe.

I toss. I throw. I wash. I wipe. I reset. I re arrange.

I look ahead .I see the New Year waiting at my door. I turn back.

Somethings remain.

They always will.