Everything Is a Toy (Except the Toys)
The baby toy graveyard is full of things I actually paid for.
Vanished: the $30 silicone giraffe she swore she’d love.
On the floor: a plastic water bottle, crinkled and chewed.
Clutching: a remote, a receipt, a rogue tissue box.
All the colorful, light-up, FDA-approved fun? Ignored.
Let her play with my dignity, I guess. That’s free.
---
Author's Note:
This poem was written for the VOCAL acrostic challenge hosted by D.K. Shepard. I was inspired by my daughter’s ability to ignore every carefully chosen toy in favor of trash and stolen household objects.
Thank you, D.K., for giving me a reason to laugh instead of cry over the $100 worth of abandoned toys in our living room.
About the Creator
Carolina Borges
I've been pouring my soul onto paper and word docs since 2014
Poet of motherhood, memory & quiet strength
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
Haha!! This is great! I love all the little particulars you wove into this, it painted such a vivid scene and gave the final line such a punch!
Feeling this one - it all about the boxes and empty bottles. Great job!