Broken Toys, by Bryanna A. Buchanan
People remind me of broken toys. When I first get my toys, they’re of top importance; I always want to play with them. Then one day, they suddenly break. The warranty claimsgood for a lifetime but proves faulty. It’s always when I love the toy the most, too, that it breaks right in my hands. My broken toys always want to get fixed, so I suit up and run to aid them. My tool kit—heavily equipped with duct tape, scissors, and glue—performs dual surgery to mend my broken toy and broken heart. Once broken, though, both stay broken.
They prove stronger in the afterlife.
The saddest part, now, is how hard I tried to fix my toy. Giving it my all and coming up empty. So, I retire my tools back to their kit, collapse into bed. And, as I should have done from the beginning, I toss away my broken toy.
