Poem: Ash

Shoved in a box,
an awkward fit with gaps
in the corners and sides
that suffocate me.

Don’t test the fragility of my confinement.
Don’t make a scene.
Don’t call attention to myself.
Don’t embarrass them.

Row after row of uniform boxes,
the linear homogeneity broken
only by those unafraid to leave
everything behind.
One day that will be me.

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