Waves of boxes

flood into our home.

We must unpack

all of the belongings

we packed

only three days before.

The boxes

filter into

my bedroom.

I am drowning

in these boxes

in this room

this house.

Doesn't anyone understand?

Doesn't anyone care?

I try explaining

to Iris

how I feel. 

She should understand.

But she doesn't.

If Iris doesn't understand,

I am alone.