I think it’s safe to say that in just about every home, there’s a junk drawer. It’s where we put stuff—the flotsam and jetsam of life—until we figure out why we saved it in the first place or decide we don’t need it in the second.
In the midst of cleaning out the junk drawer, it hit me. All the things in the drawer were useful at one time but had now become a collection of largely unnecessary junk.
I’ve felt like that frequently in my life—extraneous, lost, forgotten, and (especially) broken.
Making all the pieces fit back together again is difficult. Sometimes it’s just easier to stay broken.
Keys to locks lost long ago.
A button from a sweater
Given to Goodwill two seasons past.
A wayward knight from a forgotten chess set.
The handle of a broken teacup, waiting
For someone to replace that dried up tube of Superglue.
A map of Orange County, and vicinity,
Folded incorrectly, of course.
A screw, missing from who knows where,
A gasket for the faucet, a marble.
A bulb for the tail light of a car already sold.
When I put myself back together,
If I have pieces left over,
Is this where I put them?
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