a box girl. tape and scissors.
the magic
marker
to indicate which room
which box
would go into
on her next inevitable move..
she stacked
them
where she could, lived
out of them.
she was alone.
never staying anywhere
long enough
to call it home.
she dipped in and out
of her
memories, all of her
life stored
in boxes.
time was running out.
where to next?
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