My father has many white elephants.
A car, that is the first of it's kind but does not run.
An ATV, he got as payment for a job he did well.
The dogs, birds, lizards, any animal that can get into our yard has been picking at the spongy seat
It does not run.
A large wooden bread bowl, that he bought for my mother and my sister to knead bread in.
We use it to keep newspapers in.
A huge at home bar, that we keep outside on our patio.
It's been covered for ages.
It leads me to believe that he buys things, gets things without an idea of what to do with them.
I am a twin.
I am the younger twin.
Can you see where I am going with this?
Sometimes I wonder if I am a white elephant.
Because if I think about it, I am hard to maintain. And because of this,
I am extremely hard to get rid of
And I know they want to get rid of me.
From the words they use when telling me to "do better so I can get out of the house"
To the solemn looks they give me when they think I am not looking.
It's quite disheartening.
Feeling like a White Elephant in the only place you've ever called home.
YOU ARE READING
Little Infinities
Non-Fiction"No one told me, That love was something to be afraid of. Now look at me; Afraid to get my heart broken After one encounter With the angel-disguised sin. " c.w A collection of poems, dreams, thoughts and short stories.
