i look at the items tossed on my dresser
like a display of vanity,
a black chanel
purse with a tube of red lipstick inside,
and a napkin with a number of some one to
whom i can for the life of me not recall
one diamond earring
beautiful isn't it
i wonder how i lost its match
cigarette butts pilled in the ashtray
humorous because i don't smoke
the different brands make a collage of identities from suitors past
a prescription bottle
something to ease the pain.
a candle still flickers but almost out
a picture of my family taken when i was
young face down for no one too see
a bottle half full with red wine lipstick
stains on the rim,
a brush
with a few strands of my long blond hair
and nothing that feels like home
for all are just reminders
that I'm so alone
from
"Past"
by my loving daughter
Hillary Marek
