The cardboard box is soft and damp

The cardboard box is soft and damp.

I moved it toward the hallway lamp.

These boots are white with winter salt.

The way we ended wasn't my fault.

Wait—no, that’s a lie.

I wore them through the hospice wing.

I walked until the nerves would sting.

The left heel has a thin, flat spot

from pacing through the things I thought

but never actually said.