Boxes ( in progress )

Rainy and muggy walking toward a building full of boxes
They contain things or memories or trash
Trash to one - memories to another
Each box might be hated for existing
 for its trash to be tossed
 for its memories to remind or wonder
Boxes on a computer just the same not in name
 folders of memories
 folders of trash
 folders of nostalgia and sadness and longing and love
All equally hard to dispose of one maybe easier to move
If I get rid of this box will I forget?
If the box is thrown will I be forgotten?
Is there something I could learn?
Is my life only boxes now?
 Damp cardboard and data both rotting in their own way
 providing comfort in their existance.