"Kick your shoes off at my door" & "Value" Cassandra Pegg

Kick your shoes off at my door

I want to show you all the knick-knacks

on the shelves in my room.

I want to lead you into my life by the hand,

and point out all the places you fit.

I want to wear your sweaters and if you want,

you can wear mine too.

I’m a breath from telling you all my secrets every time you smile.

If you want to make this fair, tell me about your heart.

I’m convinced the stars look to your eyes for inspiration, or

to your freckles for new constellations.

I’ll make your tea just how you like it;

I’d be honoured to have such knowledge of you.

I’ll give you the best pillows in this room,

let you tug the blankets to your side,

if it means you’ll rest your head in the same space as mine.

Kick your shoes off at my door, collapse on my couch,

laugh into my air.

Hide the sun with your shadow, you are my new reference point.

I didn’t like the light in my eyes anyway.

I’d let you read any book off my shelf, play any CD on the stereo,

if it would give me a glimpse of your taste.

Kick your shoes off at my door, sweep me like dust

into your arms,

take all the air you please. 

Value

Your grandmother’s face stares out at me from her space

between a 5th grader’s first clay masterpiece

and a vintage frame with a “Made in China” tag on the bottom.

I pass her by, examine white shelf after white shelf, filled

with the knickknacks of lives otherwise lived.

I clutch at the coasters I’ve chosen, the necklace I’ve wound

around my wrist for safekeeping,

for the voyage to the cash.

I am desperate to save them from this graveyard

of strangers’ mementos.

This is no place for the living.

No place for the breathing objects in my hands,

the ones that already have an imagined place on my bookshelves.

You will not be forgotten, oh precious ones.

Until I die, you will be cherished, and perhaps even after that.

If sentimentality runs in the family maybe you will last

another generation or two,

before you end up back on those white shelves with a 2$ tag

carelessly pressed to your best feature, 

impossible to peel off without sticky residue.

Perhaps you will be the unlucky ones,

the dog adopted from the shelter and returned

at the end of the week.

Maybe you’ll clash with my décor, make me feel claustrophobic,

remind me of money wasted,

or perhaps you simply won’t suit my life,

because your old lives still linger in the dust and the fingerprints and the stains.

Cassandra Sarah Pegg (she/her) is an Honours English Literature and Psychology student at Concordia University in Montreal, Quebec. Cassandra’s work has previously appeared in Soliloquies Anthology and she has work upcoming in Pixie Literary Magazine and Dollar Store Magazine. She spends her time writing (and rewriting) an endless stream of half-realized works. When she's not writing, you can find her with a cup of tea and a video game at the ready.