My Heart is a Small Place

I have yet to replace the old, creaky floorboards, the leaking sink, and the windows that won't shut, but I am doing my best to keep the place tidy.

I take out the trash, sweep the cobwebs, water the plants. I'm fastiduous when it comes to arranging my shoes, books, files.

But it's tricky when you come over. I try to hide the little cardboard boxes labeled, 'Secrets,' the folders upon folders of Memories, a logbook of 'Feelings' in the cupboard.

But what use is it, really?