Another mans trash


Today I feel like trash My mind a broken mirror My body a crushed aluminum can My arms and legs feel like crayons When they snap after coloring too hard One piece becomes two pieces Something useful becomes something useless Despite being more than one I feel like nothing As I'm thrown into a suffocating plastic bag I can't move from under my covers I can't bring myself to open my eyes To witness a day of being discarded I have family and friends They love me but can't crawl into my head Just to feel what it's like To be trash Today I feel like treasure My mind a shiny mirror The image it reflects distorted and fuzzy My body a tall glass of water Warm after being in the sun It makes my throat feel funny as I swallow Im out of bed by 7:15 am Pacing up and down the hallway It's hard to confirm what's happening around me My surroundings are slow and small My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty I spend the day using the treasure I earn Buying stuff that won't make me feel like trash Makeup, perfume, anything that makes me feel better My sparkle is starting to dull by about 2:15 pm The things I bought make me want to cry I don't feel like myself anymore I don't like myself anymore The day was a blur and I can't seem to hear the voices call out as I cross the road Today I am an angel My wings are pale and sparkly in the sun They glitter like glass on the road after a car accident My back aches, as my wings have just emerged My spine is crooked and wavy like a winding river Blood drips from my shoulder blades And blood drips All I hear are car alarms and sirens As I rise from the ashes The glass on the ground shakes and dances as I make my way from the ground towards the sky Newly clean Newly glowing Recycled A pile of trash transformed into an angel A pile of trash becoming something perfect In the eyes of God But as I reach My arms grow tired My wings hurt as I stretch them and push them up towards the sky They start to shrink The white feathers growing dull and grey The grey feathers growing sharp and black I scream as I'm torn from my freedom I wail as I'm torn away from the white clouds and pearly gates I look above and remember how being treasure felt I wish I was bubbling with gold again Today I am wounded My wings are now bony and bare Small and shriveled Like a flower being rained on by weed killer I wince when I flutter them unconsciously My shoulder blades feel like real blades Dipping deep into my back I feel like trash I will always be trash No one will ever love an angel with no wings Today I am a demon The treasure feeling has grown bigger than me My heart, no longer beating, clicks on again I watch from below Looking above I've grown greedy and slow My wings are creaky bones And my eyes no longer I can only wish to be treasure But as I observe my mortal body from below I realize I will never be buried Given flowers Rained on No one cared enough for my name to be etched into a giant rock I watch as my body Is truly treated like trash Stuck in a body bag Thrown in the back of a car And discarded among a landscape Not of flowers and grass But glass Broken crayons And aluminum All which could've been used again I suppose I am truly at home now Just another mans trash

Comments

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this short story. Encourage a writer by being the first to comment.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace