lost and not found

things that go into the void are things you hoard but cannot find again.
you can put up lost posters for them around the city,
but they will not crawl out of their dark, warm corners.
they don’t need to. they have found a new home.

you’ll eventually learn to stop putting a doormat in front of a unopened door.

the void contains memorable items such as
torn pages of notes passed secretly in class,
birthday cards with words that no longer ring true in your heart,
doodles by your next-door deskmate,
a perfect paper star next to your past failed origami efforts.
other memorable items also include unwanted feelings,
suppressed thoughts, swallowed words
and surely, nostalgic memories.

not that you care. or, at least that’s what you’d like to think.

your searching hands say otherwise,
your sore feet tell your heart to stop.
they ache to fill this empty house with something,
anything besides the four walls that keep this owner company.
the wooden floorboards creak, under the weight
of the haunting past that got away,
yet linger at your fingertips, lips and skin.
the void may be a safe haven for pastime lovers,
but its danger lurks when you overstay, way past your time,
curls around your toes and bounds you to the basement.

welcome to the lost and not found, what is it you’re looking for?


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