Kneeling in this empty room I free myself from my shirt;
I put down my bags and my shoes, heavy and soaked with hurt.
I wring out what I can and finally fold them up tight.
Naked now, without the pain, I know I’ll be all right.

I take this tear-damp baggage and say a proper goodbye;
for the first time in a long time, my clothes and heart will be dry.
I take the memories too, the worst and the best,
and I store everything safely in a huge mahogany chest.

I breathe in the warm smell of the rich and knowing wood
and cry a quick smile as I touch, once more, the bad and the good.
The time came to close the chest and lock it tightly with steel,
always there, never gone, but now I can start to heal.