Life As a Book

April 12, 2008

My pages had been clean and my cover fully published. I was slowly place on a shelf, and heard nothing around me. Waiting a couple of days, I lost hope of ever being touched by the gentle human hand ever again. I prepared to go on an endless sleep, as I thought I would never be lifted again.

Right before I started to doze off, the rubbing of hands was bursting in the air. I silently called out to them, and as if lured by my unspoken words, I felt them against me. I then, was dropped.

I left my senses to only get them back a couple of days later. In front of me a girl I had never seen turned my insides carelessly.

After a couple hours, I felt a terrible pain in my side. The girl laughed at me and said something I couldn’t understand.

The pain never left me, even though I was returned. The more times I went with girls and boys, the more pain I had felt, physically and mentally. Coffee spills, water, and other things had fallen on me.

The last time I saw my home was 3 years ago. A boy had checked me out 3 years ago, and never returned me. Now, I lay here idly thinking. Thinking of how long I’ll last till my end, when my cover is fully diminished. Thinking if I’ll ever see broad daylight again, thinking if I would ever make it through this life, as being a book.