I want the record
that barely plays anymore
but sits quietly on the shelf
patiently waiting to be listened to.
I want the shoes
with the torn up laces
the ones that are too small,
too damaged,
and too good to be thrown away.
I want the car
that doesn’t ask for much
besides some gas
and an oil change here and there
but it rattles whenever you hit a bump
and barely let’s you make a left turn.
I want the song
you overplayed in middle school
the one that wasn’t even that good
but helped you survive
when you thought the world was after you.
I want the thrift store find
the 90’s love song
the iPhone two generations too old.

I want substance.
Longevity.
Something I know will come out alive
when the world does all it can to destroy it.