I find myself trying on for size

All the lives I never had

Discarding fame or motherhood here

Laying artistry or isolation there

On the pile

On the bed

Draping the loss of the never-known

Over chairs and on the door

Past loves are examined then stacked in a corner

Next to the no’s and not-dones

Not regrets

Just what could have beens

Echoes of a decision taken or an opportunity missed

Before I shove them back in the cupboard

Closing the door

And going back to me