I am the odds and ends of the things/lives I collect from others
The last blank pages of your notebook finally filled
With unrelated topics, phrases, words, precious only to me
I am the afterthought, the forgotten things
I save bits and pieces of books lives torn pages out of magazines, the original hoarder
I am the value in the stuff strangers left behind
Empty shampoo bottles, still good for one more use
The last three bits of candy no one wanted
I am commitments made and lost
To maintain upkeep, to always BE THERE
I am the plain fare of your first apartment
Committed to SmartHealth, rich in none
I hide in pseudonyms and basement apartments
Lurking in shadows so darkly private that
Should you even suspect my inner world exists
I'd cut you off, shut the door in your face, asking, pleading
For you Not to Exist.