William doesn’t talk to us anymore.
He left us in the closet when he moved out of the house.
Time tears at our gentle fabric skin.
William won’t let us go in his head.
He doesn’t understand that we were happy to be donated
To other children who need us.
To William, we are not toys,
We are real people that he let go.
We are more weight,
More stepping stones
On the trail of abandonment that he is building.
Posted in response to the challenge Forgotten.
New starust slicks the shingles
On the ancient roof of the shed
Where a couple of souls lie to clean
Their greying teenage bodies.
The streetlight turns off at
Half past ten,
I see someone that I wish I looked like and I hope she is living a perfect life with the right body and doesn’t have to stay up as late as I do in order to feel things and doesn’t even know about me or what I do while I wait for things t
every time the
re is uncertain
ty in my life, i
am extremely
calm, because
i know that w
hen it is resol
ved, i will feel h
appy or sad and
either way, i will
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