chamomile and sunshine

café derramado

i am a page in a book.

the page that you spilled coffee on.

the page that you ripped by accident.

i am the pencil you dropped in the hallway,

but never picked up.

i am the old clothes you don't wear anymore.

hung in your closet, forgotten about.

i am the hot chocolate you left on the counter to grow cold.

i am the flower you stepped on, 

once bright and blooming, now withering and crushed.

i am the broken branch and the fallen leaves.

the forgotten homework and the endless summer nights.

the hot heavy air, and the soft lips on your cheek.

i am the coffee stained page, with the tear in my skin.

and because of these imperfections,

you threw me away.