I sit in a small room, surrounded by all my possessions. Some are very old, like the teddy bear I had as a baby, and some are brand new, like the box of wound wraps I got in the mail yesterday or the w/c I got a week or so ago.
Everything I own in this world is right here with me. This laptop I caress with my fingers, the clothes I never wear hanging in the closet, my phone and wallet.
I'm waiting for my ankle to heal, to be able to walk on my right foot. These possessions mean nothing to me anymore. I would love to just walk out the door here, with just my wallet and phone.
Leave everything behind and let my roommate have it all hauled to the dump.
I really don't care about anything anymore.
And I don't know where I would go, just away.
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