Potato

Another one from the collection.

(Click headline to read it.)


My name is unimportant, for I am a potato.
I would like to reside in your couch, but would prefer your bed.
Don't expect much from me, I'll just take up space, reside mostly
between your sheets. I would prefer the top layer, but whatever works
is good for me.
I'll be in your conversations, absorbing your information, I may give
some feedback if I feel like it, but don't forget that I'm a mere
potato. Don't try and eat me, most say I make them naseous. I'm not
the best looking potato, you won't want me too badly, but I don't
smell and I'm not dirty, so don't fret. You'll probably get bored of
me after awhile, maybe you'll ask me to move to the couch, but not
leave you. You'll still want to talk about the same things as before,
just treat me differently and look at me differently, and feel for me
differently, but have no fear -- I'm just a potato. I'll take the
torture of watching you move on in your life as I stand still, you
moving around me as my starchy heart turns mashed. Waiting for you to
come back and let me back to your bed.



June 3, 1:27A