Discarded by Sarah Betancourt

you sink deeper

into the wastebasket

i’ve been using

since i was

a little girl,

the sole memory

of a night

i barely recall.

unfamiliar lettering

on a simple sticker

spells out a word

i know too well.

Handwriting careful,

you neatly curl

the t, but bluntly

hers pieces the page.

your name rests

atop tissues

and old clothing tags.

stowed away safely,

folds fraying,

your name sticks

in my treasures

and to my trashcan.