Pandora's Box

One for airplanes, heights, ladders, and jumping headfirst  into lakes.

Two for condescending,menacing, phony, fakes.

Three for waiters, teenagers, blondes and the elderly.

Four for getting lost, walking in the dark, and swimming in the sea.

Five for roller coasters, carnivals, balloons, and clowns.

Six for insecurities, make-up, heels, and ill-fitting gowns.

Seven for public speaking, graduations, and all sort of crowds.

Eight for mourners all in black and funeral shrouds.

Nine for lions, tigers, bears, and snakes, oh my.

Ten for sleeping, falling, choking,and how I am going to die.

Eleven for not talking enough, being ignored, and for never standing up for myself.

Twelve for climbing mountains, counters, stairs, and not being able to reach that top shelf.

Thirteen for bad luck, superstitions, and knocking on wood.

Fourteen for being myself, and doing what’s right versus doing what is good

Fifteen for overthinking, jumping to conclusions, and chances never taken

Sixteen for food poisoning, salmonella and uncooked chicken.

Seventeen for moving out, buying or renting, and learning to drive.

Eighteen for the hustle and bustle of school and trying to survive.

Nineteen for the judgemental looks and silent stares.

Twenty for protecting myself and others, and the crosses I must bear.

Twenty one for awkward silences and the ever present “um’s”

Twenty two for getting ready for social gatherings and accidentally getting eyeliner on my thumbs.

Twenty three for computer hackers, Kindles, and posting things on Twitter.

Twenty four for carbon dioxide, monoxide, and  many other “silent killers”.

Twenty five for all this and much much more, including all the people worth dying for.

 

So there you have it, there is not much left to say.

You have my secrets, do with them what you may.

Close the box up tight now, and let me be.

Make sure when you leave that you throw away the key.

This poem is about: 
Me

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