spring: end

Things go rolling back into boxes.
Open shelves and empty glasses.
Leaving behind forgotten traces
of existence and time erases.

Loaded lugguage with lives inside.
Airline tickets and taxi rides.
Forgetting and left to hide
memories and pictures aside.

with 1 last exam left to go, i feel as if i'm all ready to just finish packing up and leave. i think packing is an act that's filled with a lot of irony. there's always this idea that you are going somewhere, but you're also leaving something behind. i remember stepping into my current room feeling so much apprehension, but i suppose it has become home. i have met good people here, and for that i'm thankful. but to be moving out of here permanently does make me feel somewhat uneasy, as if i'm closing a chapter in the story of my life just a bit too soon.