A broom. Wooden. Used for sweeping and cleaning the floor or getting cobwebs off the ceiling. It moves back and forth, controlled by another’s hand. It gathers more dirt in its bristles than in the dust pan. It is meant to be used vertically. The fact is, this is something even a child knows; this is how it goes.
A pink treasure chest. Flowered. Locks with a key. This chest is filled with pennies, the perfect collection for a small child. The lock can be pulled off with a strong enough hand. Eventually the chest will disappear. Unhappiness will turn the world black; you can’t go back.
A bow. Plastic. On the back of a black skirt. This skirt is well loved, though much too short by society’s standards. It does not belong on a child, but the child will not take it off. This was the beginning. Dress-up is nothing more than a game of pretend; we promised each other it’s ‘till the end.
A dollar. Paper. Purchases commodities. The value of a commodity is determined by the user. The higher the use value of a particular commodity to a particular user, the more dollars will be spent. The dollar is used as a type of exchange, and this commodity should have more value than it does. The damage caused is hard to see; how wild it was, to let it be.
A baby blanket. White. A fuzzy replica of Winnie the Pooh. It is meant to hold a baby that’s not there, that will never be. It will stay in its package in the memorial on the upper shelf of the bookcase. It is the only thing left. Life is filled with much regretting; your smiles at the wake and your tears at the wedding, forgetting.
A stool. Leather. Much too short to be sat upon. It is used as a table, piled high with books and papers but never people. The back is short, the legs stubby. A method of control. Learn not to stray; and more, much more than this, I did it my way.
A knife. Sharp. Used in the kitchen. Cutco makes a most expensive brand that is touted for its ability to stay sharp under pressure. Children are taught from an early age to use it properly. Using it incorrectly places a large amount at stake; I think that I might break.
A stain on the carseat. Pomegranate. Faded by repeated attempts to exterminate it with disposable cleaning wipes. The remnants will always remain. It clings there like a poison to your insides. Red does not come out of gray; nothing gold can stay.
A series of items. Seemingly meaningless and random. When put together, these things are the sum of the decisions of others to cause pain. Life is not always used as was intended. There is no such thing as normal, not anymore. Even though the world is prone to warp and bend, it will all be okay in the end; if it’s not okay, it’s not the end.
And remember: no matter how it feels in the moment, everything will be okay.
It all ends.
(The quote sources, in order-if you spotted them: Aimee Mann, The Strange Familiar, Vanessa Carlton, Cheryl Strayed, David Gray, Frank Sinatra, Sia, Robert Frost, and John Lennon)