Wanting Easy

A white book case is living
in my head. Anne Frank like, I
 am on secret's side looking at
badly painted shelves; one
shelf empty, one shelf piled full.
My powder blue baby blanket,
a walking stick I thought was cool,
a rose color glass jug I broke,
a chipped, mixing bowl I gave
away, a shirt I loved and thought
I looked good in. They are silent,
all against me. What I mean is,
I can't get through them
to the other side of what I want.

This wanting is a feeling,
stays in my chest when I
breathe in. I see them
in my head, sight triggering
the words saying you had this,
you don't need that. Remember
the mistakes you made with this?
How you gave this away
knowing it was wrong? Remember
the way this worked out so well?
It will never happen again.
And the other truth/lie,
if I could just get through this
it would be easy. It would be so easy.