In remembrance of my 18 imaginary friends
I should’ve disappeared long ago. It’s hard not to feel disheartened. I know they didn’t mean to leave me here with everything withering away.
But as long as I am somewhere in her head, I will remain.
I still remember everything.
I’m the last traces, and I am the artifacts left over. One day, someone will find me and ask me something. Something like “What happened?” Or “why are you made of old things?” Maybe even “who are you?”
There are so many questions I want to answer. Sometimes I pretend the birds ask me about our history so I can answer each one.
I could tell you exactly how it happened.
Ironically enough, I used to be the archivist for my kingdom. I miss everyone. It still feels like they’re watching me, somewhere.
Maybe one day, I’ll see them again.
At least I can be life for others. The insects seem to like me, they like anything that can be a habitat. And I do find company with the other animals that like to visit.
One day, I’ll see them again.
And I want nothing more.