not a favorite toy

Accept the things I cannot change,
Like how I’m not your favorite toy.
You cling to sweet innocence,
While I’ve built a home with sturdy walls,
A roof in a color I adore.
Isn't it time for me to live
In this big-girl house I built?

Accepting what I cannot change—
How I wished to be your favorite,
Siphoning your time with new accessories,
Hoping to be picked up again, held close,
Longing to be just left behind at a gas station,
Not discarded, just lost and missed.

But I’m not your favorite toy.
Not a contender, not an afterthought.
I’m tucked behind the dresser,
Next to unwrapped candy,
Dog hair-covered, never found
Or touched again. I’m learning
To accept the things I cannot change

Like accepting me as I am, where I am,
Even if it is so far, so far, from where
I began.