Being part of a collection
may not be
lack of true affection.
In truth, it may mean
one is a treasured possession.
Such lonely, lonely honor
disturbs connection.
Dust gathers on the shelf
as one is admired upon occasion,
and coats the confident self
in dismay and utter confusion.
Untouched, unfelt,
as time passes, hearts
become too hard to melt.
Harder to recall all one felt.
Until one feels
nothing at all.
annarino writes 