“phone call about head in the box”

I haven’t looked in the box in over a month or better. 
The only way I know it is still in there is by the weight
and the occasional rolling thump
of the contents shifting.  And of course the smell. 
I would like to look, but I’m afraid of the eyes. 
What if I open the lid to find that I’m staring at myself,
all glazed over with sort of a bewildered expression and asking why? 

In the beginning, I wanted people to see,
going as far as leaving it on my desk with the flaps unfolded. 
But lately there is a sense of danger;  
I feel the need to hide, to guard this condition. 
I keep it on my person as much as possible,
pretending that I’m perpetually on my way to UPS or the post office. 
The box is ready for mailing, stamped and addressed. 
No one has noticed that I would be sending it to myself:  
not yet at least.
My biggest risk is when I exercise. 
Since I can’t take it with me on the run,
I lump it on the edge of the dining room table with my briefcase and folders from work.  It appears to be yet one more “to do” to check off my list. 
To do.  What to do?  It wasn’t meant to go this far and yet here I am, wondering how to grab this thing by the hair of the head without getting bit. 

I guess I should be glad that it is quiet now. 
It was really difficult early on with all the whimpering sounds
escaping the box.  Its cries purposed all kinds of challenges
in the hiding department. 
Every now and then a little anger still seeps from the bottom of the box
and leaves a ring wherever I have it resting. 
Resting, I sure could use some of that.

At this point, I fear I need a little more than merely a shovel
to finish this job.  That is why I called you.  
I need your expert advice?  Where is my clear alibi?  What should I do? 
I have been practicing a reveal,
but none of the emotions seem to fit this situation.  
This is certainly beyond my feigning surprise or merely apologizing. 
How soon could you be here and with a trunk?  I need a trunk. 
I know this a lot to throw at our friendship, but I have to ask. 
I know you are loyal and can keep a secret. 
All there is for you to do is say yes or no.  Either way is OK. 
I’ll understand.  I’m in a place where I figure it can’t hurt to ask.  
Nothing can escalate “this” anymore than it already is. 
The decaying process has long begun.  
I need some lime and a plastic bag.  Are you in?