Plaything

Like a doll with a missing leg

Or a matchbox car with three wheels

Left, forgotten, beneath the bed

Or in the closet, in a dusty box

What so many memories

That she’s forgotten.

 

I sit here in this toy box of memory

Wanting nothing more than

To be remembered, cherished

Picked up and smiled at

With the careless freedom

Only a child has.

 

But I’m broken, lost to time

The ultimate playdate looms

Just over the horizon, and I’m

Almost ready to give up and

Sigh my last goodbye

To this purgatory.

 

But there’s a sound. A ringtone

My cellphone lighting up.

Her face graces the screen

Her number lit in green

And my tears hide the rest

As I press the green.

 

 

January 9, 2016