unraveling,
undone at the seam.
my cotton exposed
loop-by-loop.
i'm losing it
carefree.
a puddle of yarn
and string
is what remains of me.
YOU ARE READING
she likes the color yellow
Şiirmy soul in poem form. i'm not a good poet, but i've learned to be vulnerable.
unraveling
unraveling,
undone at the seam.
my cotton exposed
loop-by-loop.
i'm losing it
carefree.
a puddle of yarn
and string
is what remains of me.
