I Can Shift

I could shift all my rags 

through the new door,

but how do I leave the cheval glass 

that saw every smile I wore?

 I could pack all my footgear 

stuff them in the new rack,

but on the tiles, I sauntered and ran, 

how do I turn my back?

I could rip out of the walls the poster of every song

but how do I not feel that I'm ripping pieces of my heart along?

I could leave the bed, the sheets, the curtain above too

but how do I leave the pillow that saw my bluest blue?

I could forget about the hues painted on the wall by my choice

but how do I forget about the walls that heard the growth in my voice?

I could leave behind the cupboards with secret doors to hide memories and more

but how do I trust my little chamber of heart with all the memories to store?

I could leave the windows through which I'd observe the city roam

I could leave my house but how do I leave my home?