When I was little,
I had a favorite toy.
I even wrote my name on the back,
On the label.
I took my toy with me wherever I went.
I even left a seat open for it at the dinner table.
I loved it so much,
and I always had it with me.
Even when I learned how to tie my shoe,
And even when I forgot to,
And fell and scraped my knee.
Over some time the label on the back began to peel,
The corners lifted at the sides,
But I was five, it was no big deal.
I would just press them back down,
And they would stick again.
That toy was my everything,
That toy was my best friend.
As more time passed,
The corners of the label lost their stick,
And I could no longer push them down,
And they couldn’t be xed.
But it didn’t really matter I thought,
It didn’t mean anything at all.
In the end, it was still the same toy that I originally bought.
As I grew up,
My name faded away.
The label was mostly empty,
And I was too old to play.
I passed it on to my sister,
And she loved to play with it too,
But one day she stopped playing,
And that’s when I knew.
She’d grown up as well,
And she’d moved on.
By this point now,
The label was almost gone.
It was mostly rubbed off,
With some sticky stuff left where it was.
It had some things stuck to it,
Like lint, string, and sweater fuzz.
A few years later,
As I was cleaning my room,
I found the toy under my bed,
When it got stuck on my vacuum.
I picked up the toy,
And turned it over to the back.
My name was no longer there,
Just a smudge and a small crack.
Maybe there was never even a label,
Or maybe it had in fact just lost its stick.
But then i started to question if it was ever even mine,
I should’ve just written my name on the plastic.

Taylor Maher

Taylor Maher is first a musician, but also an aspiring poet. She enjoys exploring all types of creativity within the arts, but currently working towards becoming a more skilled writer. You can find more of her work and encourage her growth at @notes.app.poetry_ on Instagram.