You are the pen lid,
thoroughly chewed,
that will get replaced.
You are the doodles,
drawn all in pencil,
that will get erased.

You are the junkfood,
salted or sweet,
that will go to my thighs.
You are the poems,,
avidly typed
that are half-truths and lies.

You are the earrings,
in colours bright,
that dangle and tease.
You are the knee-highs,
not average socks
that continually please.

You are the books,
all in one box,
that wait to be read.
You are my mouth,
hungry with boredom,
that needs to be fed.

You are my alarm clock,
bright and glowing
that produces a stare.
You are the bobbles
in all different colours
that I place in my hair.

You are the rain
on my darkened window,
that trickles down.
You are you,
the one that I've lost
who is all around.