When you bought me, you promised you would memorize my arches. Pages.

Underline and quote me. I waited—

When your pen would find my thoughts.

In when I would be lively conversation to friends, high—

And I wouldn't feel so Alone, would I.

But I watched your red wine dinner parties, your late dim conversations

From my shelf.

Never brought me out, introduced me

Never packed me in your bag for your beach.

If I sit up straight; Pristine—

But to pack me in your boxes under magazines

Carry me upstairs, but to Nurseries and studies.

I will watch grooves in walls grow for grandchildren.

Will you still choose another success over me—

When he—

My spine cracks from not being held enough

My pages were never written on; I was never bent—

I wanted to be thrown in Anger, taken up later, remembered to savor.

And maybe one day, a box will bring me somewhere new, no—

Wrinkled edges and water ridges.

But he—

– Saw My Color.

Peek between my Ribs and Heart to see what memories echo.

Breathe into my lungs so I am alive—

I was only words not memorized, Once.

But once.

He can read my years;

Kept in the fire by his side.