Donation sad stories
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ronnie lost in space
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
I wrote this back in March


by ronnie

I saw an old blanket I donated at goodwill

And felt this weird lingering feeling

And it felt like you

Wondering of what you did with my heart when I left

Did you donate it to your local goodwill?

And if so, do you feel that weird lingering feeling too?

Do you feel weird when you pass by and see the layers of dust collecting on it?

Standing by to see who'll become the new owner of your little "someone will benefit from it more than me" donation

And do you feel responsible for the memories it holds?

Like the photo album I came to grab, opening it to find a lot of old photographs of a family on their vacation in 1976; children touching the liberty bell, the steps of an art museum, and the old church crucifix

Like the old postcard I read about a girl taking a trip and telling her mother about a new tourist centre and the manual type writer she just bought and how she's sorry she left but she'll be back soon with stories about anti-feminists

Like a spiral notebook I found from the early 2000s, filled with the story of a college heroin addict who's seen the devil and how they would find every possible opportunity to shoot up and lied to their doctor, "because nothing feels better than that wake up", they said, "hell of a lot better than hot coffee in disposable cup"

I've got lots of memories that aren't mine

And I've grown to accept that I'll have them for a long time

But I'm not sure if I want to know how you hold the memories of me

Because the memories of you aren't something I can easily disregard

And I don't know if the memories of me holds like the bad glue on a gift card

I'm fucked up, I'm really fucked up

I've got too many thoughts and I keep getting them mixed up

Like the one where I thought you loved me, but it was the other way around

And how I learned that loving you was the sound of a falling lamp because it scared the fucking shit out of me

And I swear, I truly swear I'm trying to let the memories rest and just be

Because I still wear the bracelet and I can't come to shake the thought if you still wear or donated the bracelet too?


I swore I wouldn't write a poem about you.

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