papers in the wind

some have the curse
of object
constancy,
keeping everything
ever touched
as if gold,
while others,
similar to me
need to scrub clean
the rooms,
to remove all items
related
to what's past.
it's just tin now.
rhinestones
made of glass.
I seek the big can,
the box,
the curb where all
things related
will be tossed away.
what's real is kept,
that stays in the heart,
the rest is fake,
debris,
papers in the wind,
trash.