untangling myself.

by 21:05 0 comments
I’ve been cleaning my room every Sunday for the past three weeks. There is too much of my past that I’d like to let go of, it gets very hard usually. 
I’ve had a habit of holding on to memories in all shapes and sizes. Be it a lot of my heart, the baggage I carry around, the bills from five years ago, letters from the past ten years, birthday cards, old diaries, dead flowers, torn posters, parts of my bracelets, broken clocks, empty promises and heartbeats from everywhere I go. It makes carrying myself around very heavy, my heart weighs me down. I try to un-heavy it by throwing out stuff I don’t need anymore. I can’t decide what I don’t need anymore. I feel like I’ll need something the minute I throw it out. So I hang on to things and people and places and memories, carry them around, get attached, and make them a part of me. 

The entire process of letting go and untangling becomes very hard but every Sunday night, my room looks like fresh sheets with a smell so alien yet one that reminds me of home. 

There is space in my cupboards now, the walls look a lot emptier, I’m trying to fill them up with paintings and photographs and posters and new colour. I’ve thrown out the broken clock. They say it brings bad omen. 

I’ve gotten new curtains now, new mattresses and bedsheets, there are new posters on the wall and paintings. 

I let go of a box full of stuff each time, maybe this time, I’ll let my past go too.

_untangling myself. 


National Poetry Writing Month, Day 24. 


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