Here I am,
wielded at your demand.
Here to rub off
your careless graphite strokes.
Will you brush me away
from crisp paper to floor?
Will you let me join
your exclusive pencil cases galore?

I finish the job,
losing crumbs as I go.
You stash me back alone into
the crowded, rusty geometry box.
Dark and confining metal without
any way to break the lock.

And yet again,
you blame me
for the repercussive
sketch marks.
But this time, I'm
not left as discarded
dust, no this time, I
leave without wasted
trust.

Now I've erased
you, deleted any ties.
Never again, will I
stay stationary
at your will, never again
will I be your stationery