Box/Name/Question Mark

I will drudge up 

an old metaphor 

that I've used for months

without telling you, 

to show you exactly 

what has gone on

in this little heart. 

Under a bed

in a box, 

with a padlock 

wrapped in chains, 

is your name

a question mark, 

and everything I feel. 

It's been sitting there

for what has turned into years, 

because I have no idea

what could happen

if I told you about it. 

I just keep that box

under that bed

and wait. 

Maybe one of these days, 

I'll be brave enough to show it to you.