I was standing there
Mind slowly drifting, rising from my body
I was trying to ignore the ache of my feet
The strained muscles of my back
Then that’s when I heard the voice
“Umm….”
I turn and there she stands
Feet tapping, her eyes peer down
Hand out holding a gross looking napkin
Inside some bread pokes it’s head
Without hesitation, my cupped hands accept it
And I throw it away
Not before noticing
The trashcan three feet from her
Then as I go back to standing
My mind slowly drifting…
I hear a call from my supervisor
“Hey!”
I jolt to attention, what did I do?
She is walking towards me, her finger dancing
“You are not trash!”
I look confused, so she says it again
“You are not trash.”
Then I realize what she means
I look at my hands, the crumbs still clinging to my gloves
“You do not have to take trash
Because you are not trash”
She could have taken a few steps
To throw it away
But she gave it to me
She gave me the trash
Because I was trash
But she was wrong
I am not trash.