Arrived many years ago,

But now, it appears I can open it at last.

My date of birth is on the postmark,

And my parents signed for it.

XXX

I wonder what is inside,

As I appear to have holding it,

And sharing the gift wrap only.

XXX

Until now.

Tightly wound up in my origami box,

My surfaces remain closed,

Neatly folded,

Tight edges,

Without a door,

Or a window to my soul.

xxx

Today might be the one where the unfolding begins,

And my heart and its contents become available to all,

Where the air is cleared, and my suffocating interior disappears.