Metamorphosis Chronicles | Pt2

I bury memories in a box beneath my bed, lying them down beside old birthday cards and childhood collections, leaving them for dust to claim.

I wash unfulfilled promises and misleading expectations from my hair with shampoo scented with strawberry and hope.

I peel back the layers of my personality like posters from my bedroom wall, folding them in on themselves, making bets with myself of whether daylight will greet them again.

I put my battle-weary thoughts in the washing machine, hoping they come out brighter, pegging them to the clothesline with a careful gentleness, wondering how long the sunshine will keep them warm for.

I painstakingly climb a rope labelled ‘time’ and hope and pray it will take the pain away.

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Part 1: