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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Image

thru my lense: A Pop of Color

IMG_20160719_095623

this one used to be my favorite
but i don’t think it is anymore
maybe purple is now

and the clutter in the background,
it’s always been there-
threatening my life

during the last two years
i’ve been removing it bit by bit,
but a lot isn’t mine to discard

and this thread, i used it
to mend a skirt and add a heart
and to stitch the tears in shoes