Mine to Stay

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

You were always mine to leave.
The choice was mine to stay.

Each day I stayed
I set myself back
on your crowded shelf.

Gentle fingers touched me,
handled me with care,
placed me for keeping.

For a while
I believed the way you displayed me
meant something.

I learned your rhythm,
the wait that stretched
between your touch.

I didn’t press.
I kept wanting
to be taken down.

But you responded
by adding more.
Not more room,
just more to stand in front of me.

You reached less.
If you remembered at all.

I held my shape
until I couldn’t.
I tried to be smaller.
I made myself fit.

But I grew.
And you arranged.

You were always mine to leave.

I still wonder
if you noticed
you left no room
for me to stay.

©Just Kayla, 2026

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