I am not a toy
to be put on a shelf
because you are bored.
Not an experiment
ready to sit and collect dust
while you collect data.
I don’t have the energy to
fold my hands on one knee
cross my legs like a
lady in a fashion magazine
and ponder if you
will ever want to play again.
I refuse to wait here quietly, patiently
for you to realize that I’m still here
that I still hang on every word you don’t say.
That I, covered in dust so thick I
wonder if I will ever see my skin while your
lack of presence is a heavy weight in my chest
wasting energy I don’t have just to keep my spirit
from the darkness that it was left in.
I refuse to wait for a proper goodbye
but I fear I will be waiting here forever.