Reflecting on My Metaphor

i am a typewriter and someone else is pressing the keys

i am a match that won’t light

i am yarn, frayed and unraveling

i am glue that never dries

i am words written backwards

i am a stone that can’t skip

i am lukewarm coffee

i am a pen out of ink

i am an empty spool of thread

i am a threadbare sweater

i am a left sock without a right

i am a flower, always wilting

i am written in an unspoken language

i am all consonants and no vowels

i am a broken vase, not yet mended with gold

i am a butterfly with broken wings

i am an owl without voice

i am loaded scales with no counter weights

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Formerly Known As Anony

Hi! It’s been a while. In case you didn’t know, my name is Bree, but previously I have kept that mostly hidden on here. I started this blog in 2013 and published two posts that year, neither of which exist anymore. Then I didn’t post again until I don’t remember when exactly, but that post doesn’t exist anymore either. But in January 2016, blogging here became kind of a regular thing and I published something between a hundred and a billion posts over the span of thirteen-ish months, only to drop off the radar again in February of 2017. I definitely didn’t stop writing, I just stopped sharing. I’m not gonna fill you in on my life, at least not right now, but I am gonna post my favorite poems from the blog hiatus. And I use the word poems lightly here, almost none of them have forms and some of them are so far out in left field I doubt anyone will catch them, but imma share anyways. So, hold on, this ride might get a bit crazy.