Poems.

Made of leftovers.

I am not whole.

I will never be whole.

I am made of leftovers of others.

I was completely assembled when I was born,

but as I grew up I became more forgetful,

and began to leave pieces of myself behind.

Now I am here trying to fill in the missing parts,

With anything I can get my cold hands on.

To everyone who approaches me,

I beg,

"please stay. do not leave me as others have before"

But maybe it's been me,

whose been leaving this whole time.

Perhaps I am not the victim,

But the perpetrator.

Teach me how to stay,

How to be satisfied with what I receive.

In turn I will stop begging you not to leave.