I was the latest collection,
the prized possession.
I was taken care of and loved like nothing existed before me.
Then there was an after,
something I was never prepared for.
I collected dust, my shine was no longer there, and I began to wither.
I was out of season.
So, you retired me from display and moved me to the back rooms where I could no longer be seen.
This new collection seemed to peak your interest for a much longer period than I could ever do.
I was of no more value.
I destroyed myself to make myself new for you,
but you never let me come out of the back rooms.
My soul died,
and you never knew.
About the Creator
Angel Adagio
A story worth telling 🖤
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