I can't count the amount of people who have turned their backs on me.
I am delivered door-to-door,
heart-to-heart,
and each time I am shipped,
the box grows more and more suffocating.
It is simply too small to fit the memorials I've made for all the love I have lost.
I have never understood why people choose to open me with no intention of ever keeping me.
They are so excited to see me on their doorstep;
the possibilities of what I could be are endless.
I suppose that I am not the possibility that they had hoped for.
I never am.
Still, I am holding out hope that one day,
somebody will open me and see that I am exactly what they prayed for.
Maybe one day, I will finally be enough.
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