a/n I have no idea why I have to put an underscore or period in my poems in order to indentify a space between stanzas…just know that the lines and periods aren't part of the poem and I am trying to sort it all out so that they continue to look normal like they used to.

"Like this Button"

Right now I am holding a smooth black button

that fits nicely in my clammy palm.

It is not mine. It is no one's.

I can feel how smooth this button is,

how round it is, let it slide through my fingers.

Buttons are supposed to hold things together,

aren't they? They're necessary for clothes—they serve a purpose.

Yet this button is abandoned. It is attached to nothing.

This pitch black


two holes in the middle


is all mine, lonely like I am.

I see myself in the nicks on its underside.

I am smooth and scratched at the same time.

I am small and unwanted, and feel that I

no longer serve a purpose

like I used to

like this button used to.

It is only if you look as close as you can get

that you see a small shimmer embedded deep within

this button.