Jacqueline Buckley

“Broken Pieces”

My life is one big musty attic.
It consists of cardboard boxes
filled with miscellaneous junk.
Dusty, cluttered, broken.
I am two-wheeled trikes, bald baby dolls,
moldy lunchboxes, string-less kites, leg-less chairs.
 
My floorboards creak
My shudders squeak
My air sits thick and dank.
My cobwebs swing
My roof rats sing
My furniture rots to pieces.
 
Come, come. Visit me.
Shift through my useless pieces.
Put your cheek to my blankets.
Give your heart to my dolls.
I am misused and forgotten.
Take my junk and piece me together.
I’ve got a story.

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