I've been writing from the point of view of inanimate objects for a few years now. Mostly in poems I publish on our Facebook Page.
I've written as a pancake, a pumpkin, a Christmas bauble, an Easter egg and even a camel. My characters tend to be isolated, irritable and unlucky in love.
So, I got to thinking... how must it feel to be an unpurchased card on Valentine's Day.
Personally, I'd feel quite disgruntled.
The Valentine Card’s Lament
I’m feeling quite discarded
And left upon the shelf
All this bloody cellophane
Is not good for the health.
My life is not romantic
Though my insides might imply it
My heart is worn beneath my sleeve
With a bar code to disguise it.
My mother was a notelet
My father was a poster
My brothers invitations
And instructions for a toaster.
They never sat so stationary
Waiting for the smitten
To put them in a basket
And their future to be written.
I’ve seen my fellow missives go,
The smutty and the witty
The wordy types, the maps, the cats
The shiny and the pretty.
If I’m here tomorrow
I’ll paper cut them – f**k it!
I won’t go quietly, I swear,
Into the bargain bucket.
(c) Joanna Miller 2017