Junk In Your Trunk Poem by John W. McEwers

I found some of your stuff today
in an old box I forgot I stole
when you were leaving me.

Now that it's opened, this Pandora's
trunk, this terrible ghostly luggage
follows me everywhere.

Your old Christmas stocking on the stairs
Your gardening books in the bathtub
those red panties on the door knob.

And wherever I threw your possessions
in my long buried hatred now dredged
from the bottom of my crazy lake,
I shamefully admit
is where they lie.

Just like you lied. Lied about loving me.
Lied about loving our family.

Did you think you could just get away with it?
I'm keeping your underwear.