Leave the door open, I want all to see
My college letters on the kitchen desk, to be.
My clothes in brown paper bags silently implore,
From the unassuming residence of the floor.
The guardians of my jewels, my cousin’s house,
Save for a special locket, quiet as a mouse.
In the good jewelry case, it will find its rest,
My perfume, too, in your bathroom, it’s a modest request.
Leave my neat nail polish in the big, red heart tin,
My music? With a friend who knows what it means within.
My films, bestow them to my best friend, grant her the plea,
Even if duplicates already belong to she.
Books scattered on the coffee table, left in disarray,
In the hopes that, someday, you’ll read what they say.
Pictures retired from the fridge, in family albums’ hold,
At the Salvation Army, let my shoes be sold.
Save for those navy ones, resting in my room,
Among my Christmas and birthday cards, gracefully strewn.
But allow yourself to peek at them, if you so desire,
Leave the painting of the girl standing, unless it does inspire
A sadness too profound, then let it be,
My opinions left alone, associated with only me.
Leave my fashion and music magazines alone,
In the closet, their sanctuary, they have always known.
Where they are now, let my old dolls lay,
Gloves