Pandora’s prayer

the empty box stands open
she contemplates each item
scattered on the floor
the dusty floor where she kneels
examining each one carefully
 
remembering how in years past
things had gotten put away
this and that
little pieces of her
some went quietly
some kicking and screaming
but each in their time
locked away
hidden
 
risking it all in madness
not so long ago
in a storm of fire
she ripped them all free
and she danced
oh god how she danced
in the flames
 
but the storm passed her by
leaving her torn and dirty
now each one she packs away
dusting off cold ashes and tears
placing each carefully into the
empty box
 
some things were too badly damaged
they would have to be thrown away
those she would certainly cry for
other things were badly bruised
those she would try to heal
still others should never have been put away
and those for herself she will keep
 
stirring the dust she closes the lid
locking the locks
hiding it behind an old dusty trunk
under an old unused blanket
praying it would never be
touched again
and praying that
someday it would
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