How Fast You Can Admit You Lost

I started packing on a Tuesday.

Didn't plan it. Just opened the closet

and started moving things into boxes.

My mom called. Asked if I was coming home

for the holidays and I said yes.

Then she asked if I wanted to move back

and I said yes to that too.

Then I kept saying yes to bigger things

until the furniture was stacked by the door

and the apartment was just a space

where I used to live.

The boxes aren't marked. I don't know

what's inside them. It doesn't matter.

They're going home. My old room is

waiting. The bed I slept in before

I thought I'd sleep in other beds.

I stopped trying. There's no fight about it.

No lease broken early. No dramatic

moment. Just a Tuesday and then another

Tuesday and then all the Tuesdays

of knowing you lost something

you can't name.

The boxes are by the door.

The car is rented.

I'm going backward.