A box.
That's all it is a box.
Some cardboard, no big deal.  Does not mean a thing to anyone else.
But I want to send this box so bad.
It's a box of thoughts and promises.
That it means the world.
I must get it out.
I must sail it over the sea.
If I must I will send it by plane.
If not plane then boat.
Yes, this is going where you think it is.
If not by either of those I guess I'll have to bring it by foot,
because this box only means the world when it's in your hands.
Not mine.
Everything inside would mean nothing if you did not exist.
I only have this box to give to you.
and inside is my heart, a metaphorical heart of course.
Because I'm pretty sure we both wouldn't be happy it was a real one.
That note would say; "Here's my heart where it belongs."
#I'mDead.
I don't know if you've noticed but it may be just a box.
But it isn't just a box at all.
If it means soo much and I put all I can put into.
Then this box is apart me,
but really it is a part of us.
I don't know if that makes sense.
Saying that a box is part of us,
but it is part of our thoughts and our history.
This box represents the world,
and that you and I exist.
It's a string that connects us when we can't be connected.
As I talk to you everyday and every night.
Miles and miles away.
It'll be on it's way,
and land at your door.
My heart.
and maybe yours.