What I Stole and Kept

I found it while moving boxes.

Still wrapped the way I wrapped it.

Still hidden the way I hid it.

Twenty years and it's exactly where I left it.

Exactly the same.

I'm not.

I hold it in my hand.

It's smaller than I remembered.

The weight is the same.

I don't even remember why I took it.

What I thought I needed.

What I thought it would give me.

The shame is still there though.

Attached to it like a price tag

that never came off.

I could throw it away.

I'm old enough now that no one would care.

I'm old enough that it doesn't matter.

But I'm holding it anyway.

Still unable to let go of the thing

I couldn't let go of then.