glass jar [poem]

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the last person who left me
said I wasn’t good enough to be their
whore
hollowed me out
until I became a glass jar
to hold their spare thoughts and loose change
on a neglected shelf
forgotten
as the next person finds me I know
I’ll be covered in grime
the years unkind to replaceable things
like me
they’ll have to hold my fragile trust
between their palms
and hope I learn to believe in second chances
or in new beginnings
for recycled hearts

-poem by Larissa Lee
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