My Special Box

Cubed, cream white and fragile.
My petite treasure box. Holding all my secrets with no lock or key.
Much too heavy to travel with.
Overfilling with every memory.
When I open this treasure box, my special box,
It drags me in.
I am no longer present.
I am in my own world, surrounded by past memories.
Some to make me sob, some to teach me what is good,
And some simply just to remember.
Remember times passing, people leaving, new chapters of life.
Chances to start over.
I am always seduced by these chances.
That's why it must stay closed.
This treasure box is dangerous, it wants me to stay.
I must let it go.
I must not stay.
I leave this treasure box.
In a place more secret than its presence.
For a different day.