A love letter from a pencil to an eraser

Dear eraser

I need you

To erase to erase to erase

My mistakes I have to face

 You left the best there was in me

Scrawled out in little napkin notes

And neat lines

And then you ran out

Leaving little pieces of you everywhere

 That I cannot erase erase erase

We fit together like number 1 and 2

I was your number one

And what you meant 2 me

To be number 12

Without you my apologies are dark scribbles

I can’t erase erase erase

You said

If loving me meant getting dirty then bring on the grime

Do you need me to spell it out for you

Together we make cosigns and portraits and love notes and call numbers and phone numbers and

Read between my lines

Without you they blur.

To the fourteen other people that sit at my desk

Timothy, please disinfect this chair after you sit in it.

Joe, no I will not respond to the love note you scraped on the inside this desk.

Susan, I appreciate that you take the time to brush your hair. Please stop brushing it here.

Mr. Thompson, that homework that’s been due for two weeks really was stolen, signed and turned in by Shannon in 8^th period.

Greg, this desk is probably the only place in this school where you have not left your initials.

Megs, your old gum stuck beneath this seat has the janitor mad at me.

Mrs. Angela, I will not tell you that this is where I keep that bathroom pass that’s been missing.

Benjamin the AX smells delicious, just don’t kill the allergic kid that sits next to me.

Jamie, were you the one that put a crumpled ball of paper under one of the legs so the desk would stop wobbling? Thank you.

Ethan I can always tell when you’ve been eating skittles.

Chloe, is it true that you’re the one leaving lipstick marks on the bathroom mirrors?

Olivia, do you still have my sparkly fingernail polish from that time we painted each other’s nails?

Alexander, I could inform a dental team with the pencils you leave behind. I use them anyways.

Will, I still miss you.