Record – The Daily Word Prompt

A record can be a valuable little thing. A shiny little piece of me that never goes away. A record so transparent that it might shift within my grasps, blend in to the mists, and vanish—

It has seen my flaws, it has heard my tears.

It has watched me crumble to bits of sand

 It has helped me rise and rise and rise again,

it is a constant nag, a constant demand. Rise. Rise, or you will Die.

                The thing, so sweet, is purring and snuggling beneath my feet.

It has watched me fail. It has banged it’s own head upon my veil.

        Though in vain I let it see;

                                My vane, a boy, who is too young and naïve.

           Let the record show upon my wrist:

The burden of a record I shouldn’t have dismissed.

The novelty of such a thing, is that it truly is just a thing.

A scripture or two—written in ink—the black and blue bending into kaleidoscope hues.

If only a record could be new. A shiny little present for each year anew. Yet my record is not shiny. My record is not new. My record is not perfect. My record is filled of almosts, and it is filled with pieces of you.



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