I am
A scarf,
Made of more threads than any person cares to count and
Getting softer after every wash.
You purchased me in the store, clearance section only $3.99.
You admired me for my electric colors and geometric patterns that clashed so beautifully with your wardrobe.
You get understandably cold in the cooler months and dress similar for the warmer, your scarf always nearby to warm you,
Comfort you.
Your hands fidget though, ofcourse they do mine would too if I
Had hands.
But your fingers tug my countless threads and tug and pull and rip and dig and twist until theres a tear
In your clearance section scarf for 3.99 you wear Almost every day.
Every once in a while you stitch me up. A new bright blue or lemon yellow to add to my design.
So loud no one would notice.
But you keep digging into those holes dont you?
And you keep tugging on those threads,
Dont you?
Ofcourse you do, because you'll just stitch me up later.
YOU ARE READING
post writing class highschool poems
Poetryim posting these here more for myself to keep them organised. also writing this are a p healthy way to cope so I'm gonna try to write more. reminder @ myself to start a new one once I graduate.
