Mess

I will put you in myself - to rummage, to find, to separate the jumbled together, all the haphazardly stored, all the neglected, all the rejected and abandoned. Salvage what you may leave the rest, come back to my face peer from the corners of my eyes. What do you see of my outer self a bear, a cat, a sad little boy? What did you find of me, what worth keeping? What treasure long buried? Did you say nothing or something? My heart is hard of hearing. Tell me, help me clean up the mess. If you can save something for tomorrow a piece of 'what could have been' would be useful. Now leave with my dying thanks. Be sure to shake my dust from your shoes.