this winter.

i chose concrete
and high ceilings
and proximity.

but i didn't choose this.

no, not this.
and this ache that doesn't go away
is not something i signed up for.
i didn't pick it from a shelf
with wide-eyes and a wider smile.
i didn't take it down and care for it;
cushioning it with lace and down and cotton - maybe bubble wrap.

i didn't pack it into a box - carefully
and load it onto a truck
with other things like
the blue couch
and the shabby-chic comforter
and that box full of photos i'm not sure he knows i have.

i didn't put it in a car instead of the u-haul
along with the artwork - pensive girl by irving amen,
originals by amy,
photo by mom - spider web echoing sunrise
no,
i didn't do that.

and this dying inside has to be healing.
but sometimes, it just feels like death.
and i'm not currently a fan
of winter.