I am a prop:

My noise,

My expressions,

My jokes,

First impressions.

Time passes by.

I am a stick,

Just kinda stuck there.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Who are you?

Don’t push me away.

Don’t put me on the shelf.

My own thoughts depress me

Or bore me into seclusion.

Vision blurred, heart rapid.

I’m not sure what it was that happened.

It sent me away while I pant, confused.

I looked shocked?  Do I really?

There is pressure and bewilderment.

I am stuck here on the wall.

On the floor.

On the bed.

In the corner.

Where am I?

What is going on?

How awful.  Go back.