PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Once

when I was nine

I wrote a personal narrative essay

about a time that never happened.

I took home a class stuffed puppy,

dragged him everywhere for the weekend,

and lost him right before his return.

I panicked.

I looked everywhere-

the stairs,

the toy basket,

under my bed.

Then someone told me to look in my pockets

(like a medium-sized stuffed dog would fit in the pants pocket

of a tiny four-year-old girl)-

and he was there.

Maybe

the moral

of this story

is that I write-

draw out loveliness-

string together fiction-

to put in front of you

something I could never be,

bring you false gifts,

draw you a liar,

the only way to

make you love me.