under my bed
a collection of things
snippets of ribbon
and tangles of string

old scuffed buttons
teddy bear eyes
shriveled up flowers
left to die

a bird skull i cleaned
with my hands in the sink
old perfume bottles
so shiny and pink

a lost love letter
not addressed to me
shards of glass
spit up by the sea

a lock of my hair
from before it turned dark
a cicada shell
i found in the park

i can't bring myself
to throw them away
even though it's junk
like you always say

i know how it feels
being unwanted and worn
i want nothing to feel
so forgotten and forlorn.