I Keep My Man In The Attic Poem by Casey Renee Kiser / snail viXen

I used to know him
back when
he was coin-operated
A dime and the touch of my fingertips
brought him to life
Love was cheap
but humble

I knew him once again,
upgraded
to a dramatic wind-up
It was a lot of work
but well worth his bright eyes
and I pretended he awaited my smile
Love was rushed
but humble

Now he is packed away,
enslaved by the word 'vintage'
but safe up there,
safe from what the world has become,
SAFE FROM WHAT I HAVE BECOME
His eyes I will miss dearly
and I pretend he will miss my smile

I can't afford love
these days
A dime is now a tall tale and modesty
is suddenly offensive
I remember
how his arms always reached out for me
but he never forced me to feel

Now the touch of my fingertips bring
nothing
but an early winter
No real boy can compare,
with their monotonous insincerity
I pretend it doesn't eat me alive to smile
Love is precious
but in a box