Lost keys

There were days when you hid your keys, when you hid your phone, when you hid your remote control.
And you pretended to be frustrated with their loss.
But that you within you knew where they were all along.
And when you temporarily gave up on trying to find them, another you within you knew that you’d eventually find them because of the fact you gave up.
“It will turn up,” you said. “It is here somewhere.”

Sometimes you spun a bigger, better game of hide and seek by deciding that someone else took them.
Someone you knew.
Someone you didn’t know.
Oh the scandal!
But you forgot that you’re here alone.
And none of the others would care to take your things.

But what a grand miniature game you play out.
Forgetting and remembering.
Lying and truth telling.
Finding and discovering things you’ve known all along.
The cute furiousness of mind captured by contrast, conflict and plot.
And some small part of you is disappointed when you find the keys.
But you’ll lose them again, you lover of pattern.