Poetry

DNR

You broke me like a rare antique vase
Thrown carelessly against a wall
It wasn’t anything I had done
In fact, I gave you all that you could ask for
You told me I wasn’t normal
Your way of saying I was special
Different from the cookie cutter girls you’d known

How you relished my sweetness
Wrung it out of me, hung me out to dry
Like yesterday’s laundry
Like yesterday’s everything
Now I can’t come down
I’m pinned to the clothesline
Sapped by the sun, subject of the wind

I’m an old video game at a rundown arcade
Left behind by the high scorers
Who’ve left their imprint and have no more use for me
I can’t take anymore quarters
My heart is out of order
The beats come slower
Do not resuscitate

17 thoughts on “DNR”

  1. The constant emphasis on being old or “moved on from” (not left behind per se, because you are there for them to find) comes through beautifully. Also, the thoughts of having been used become clearer with each stanza, first just as a throwaway final line, then the wonderfully morbid and if I may GORGEOUS image of being pinned to the clothesline, hung out to dry – don’t think I didn’t notice that little idiom there. Finally, the old arcade machine.

    Far as descending order of condition and ascending order of clarity goes, this was excellent.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I would never think that you wouldn’t notice something, lol, especially if it was intentional, albeit somewhat subtle.

      I’ve no idea what time zone you’re in but your lovely comments always coincide with the moment my insomnia kicks in. It’s a welcome break from staring at the ceiling. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Usually I don’t stay asleep. Woke up a couple hours ago. About the time you started commenting. πŸ˜€ It’s typical, which is why we always end up being able to do some real-time back and forth.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Hahaha, I might’ve guessed eventually if I looked at the map again. But I’ll tell you one of mine if you ask. Be specific!

        Liked by 1 person

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