The Lost and Found of Me

There’s a counter in my chest with bins and labels hand-made, neat,

A lost and found of all my selves, where past and present meet.

Old versions of my voice wait there in mismatched, quiet pairs—

the one that never spoke up once, the one that over-shares.

~~

Your jacket’s hanging on a hook, your laugh’s in box thirteen,

a movie stub, a house key, and the ring that might have been.

The clerk behind the wooden desk looks suspiciously like me.

She taps a list of missing things and says, “So. What’ll it be?”

~~

I point toward a battered joy with frayed and faded seams.

The one I left on hold too long to chase more polished dreams.

Its pockets still have crumbs of hope and sand from softer years.

It smells like rain and bus receipts and almost-vanished fears.

~~

Next, I find my stubborn no, still tagged as “unclaimed fear,”

It’s small but made of solid bone and doesn’t disappear.

I thought I’d thrown it out for good to keep the peace with you.

But here it is, intact, unbent, still learning to be true.

~~

There’s anger in a paper bag—expired, but still loud.

A pair of shoes that walked on eggs to keep from being “too much” proud.

There’s laughter I forgot was mine, a snort, a shameless grin,

I try it on; it still fits fine and warms me from within.

~~

Not everything is meant to keep; some things I sign away—

the shirt that smelled like your last hug, the script for “I’m okay.”

I tell the clerk, “Let someone else who needs this claim it free;

I’m done rehearsing old goodbyes that don’t belong to me.”

~~

She stamps the form “released with care,” files you in “learned, not owned,”

and hands me back a softer heart with sturdier-feeling bones.

I leave with pockets full of self, not souvenirs of “we,”

a ticket stamped in the present tense from the lost and found of me.

~~

If ever you misplace your worth in someone else’s eyes,

Come to this quiet counter where forgotten courage lies.

We’ll sort through all that’s gone astray, decide what’s yours to see,

and walk out holding just enough from the lost and found of me.