no longer brand new
I sit on your shelf
to be dusted off occasionally
I wave hands, legs
cry frantically
coo gently
to no avail
you won’t hold me
you won’t whisper my name
you just run away

take what you want
but you don’t get what you need
tell me you need me
just don’t tell me you love me
hold me tightly
tighter
but give me my space
tell me what’s on your mind
shut up
don’t say anything at all

© Crystal S. McDonald.