Velveteen Love
My Velveteen Love
I loved him because he was a little broken -
bashed up
smushed in
worn out
Faded in all the places
That had known too much sunlight
beach, sand, kisses.
Alone in the knowledge
Of what it meant to be the favorite
and also the forgotten.
He always stood a little apart -
Children prefer new toys these days
But I loved him because he was used
Complicated to care for
Vintage in years
But at heart
Forever a toy.
-Anisha
Regarding My Father
Some fathers - especially the incredibly intelligent, successful ones - shall, via some miracle, realize where their success is needed most and come back. . . to us.
The Summers Die
Why should I save his hide? Why should I right this wrong. . . when I have come so far and struggled for so long. If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned. Bring him home? Who am I. And who was he? I thought I knew and now I know there isn't much left to know. . . except when the city goes to bed and I can live inside my head. The trees are bare and everywhere the streets. . . the streets are full of strangers.
In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river. . . in the darkness, the trees are full of starlight. Moon child fading to crescent and then all that is left is a reflection of a girl who once was but now is no more.
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