I need some meaning I can memorize

Everything is so cluttered. Things that I've decided I no longer wanted to use, no longer wanted to toy with. I put them all in a toy chest deep within a poorly lit corner of my heart. Instead of discarding these items, they've ultimately just began to pile up on me. The toy chest has busted open. It's contents, scattered. The room, so full I can feel it pushing against the walls of my heart. It's as if I'm afraid to throw them away, of having them end up in some waste land. I want to have a garage sale so that I can approve of what is taking them away. Knowing they will take good care of them. Knowing where to call if I ever want them back. Although I may never need them back. I might be just fine having them gone. Gone for good. Incapable of ever pushing their way into my pile again.
Why am I such a compulsive hoarder?