Trash Collector

My toxic trait is that I can’t throw things away
At least if they still have use
And everything has a use
Even beyond its originally intended purpose
Even if it’s not apparent yet

So I collect trash

It accumulates in every crevice of my life
Because it might be valuable someday
I might turn it into something useful
Or beautiful

Sometimes the pollutants seep out
And start to rot
And sully the clean things I own
And create clutter, and disorder, and anxiety

Because some things actually are just garbage
And I occasionally struggle to tell the difference