Anthony Hanible

He Was Never An Object

They spoke to him like a tool

Left out in the rain

As if rust didn’t hurt

They leaned on him like a wall

Testing how much weight

A single body could take

Before it cracked

They treated him like a surface

Somewhere to set their grief

Their anger

Their unfinished lives

Never asking if he had room

For his own

They used him like a door

Swinging in and out of his life

Without knocking

Without care for the hinges

That were his shoulders

They treated him like a place

A location for their storms

A shelter they never repaired

A home they never lived in

But he was never an object

He was a man

Breathing

Breaking

Trying to stay whole

While everyone else

Mistook his endurance

For emptiness