But I gave him all of mine.
Now I'm just a-motional.
Motionless.
Unmoved.
I used to find worth in being held by him,
no matter who with.
Now I'm just with
held.
I used to be a giver,
blessing him with an abundance of my service.
Now I'm just reserved.
I used to be outspoken,
overpowering naysaying voices to silence.
Now I'm just silent.
Having been
tossed in the shed
with all the tears I hid from him.
Now I seek no longer.
My reluctance confuses you.
Now, boxed with labels of "fragile" and "do not open" and
cornered by angles whose degrees are too acute to allow room for expansion anyway,
you read my labels and write me off as unwanted merchandise- without knowing the delicacy of my contents.
And your avoidance means I am quickly "returned to sender".
*
Unmoved.
Motionless.
I used to be a-motional.
But I gave him all of mine.
Now I'm just emotional.
Posted in: Poetry
