An Afterthought To Your Affections Poem by Anita Atina

Do you really feel anything for me?
Or am I just an afterthought to your affections
Familiarly there, tolerated like old furniture

Do you really see me?
A sunless flower shriveling
In the absence of nourishing light

Do you really hear me?
Calling out for the love we once shared
Empty echoes are all that rebound

Do relationships have a discard-by date?
To be junked once well-worn, and familiarity inbreeds
Careless contempt, for what is, in exchange for what could be

If what we shared is over, then lets give it
A decent burial, and move on
Instead of living in forgotten afterthoughts