my childhood fears,
tangled in a thin line of silver.
it hangs at my heart,
my inner child telling me to take it off.
although i do not,
i leave it on.
it lays comfortably,
an inch above my beating heart.
as i breathe,
it breathes with me.
could be mistaken,
as a metaphor.
although i don't have a metaphor,
i'm not sure what the metaphor would be.
and i'm not sure,
what the metaphor would say of me.
s.d.
