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Crinkling Corners

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I am a letter lost in the mail.
I wonder if I will ever be known by my stranger.
I hear my papers crinkle like the crack of a fire: surprising, soft, and helpless.
I see others found by their strangers, taken to their new home.
I want to be read and loved even with all of my rips and tears.
I am a letter lost in the mail.

I pretend that I will soon I will find someone new to cherish me.
I feel unwanted like a puppy without its mommy.
I touch my wounds with my bare hands hoping they would heal.
I worry that soon I will be tossed aside like a forgotten friend: confused, frightened, and alone.
I cry out hoping to be heard.
I am a letter lost in the mail.

I understand that I am just another burden for someone else to bear.
I say that I will be okay, knowing I won’t.
I dream for the hellish game to end.
I try to fight the grief brought when I am tossed aside.
I hope that one day my wonders of what is beyond the envelope will shine through.
I am a letter lost in the mail.





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