Tangled
Poems are balls of yarn.
Some like to let their string of thoughts lie limp
on a table in a careless pile.
Others take their string and
twist and twirl it.
They pull and knot,
weave and wind
the soft string until it sits
a complicated ball: messy, maybe, but distinct in texture and fuzzy against one's fingers.
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SabrinaJ
Senior in college, wow. Shout out to mom and dad for keeping me alive and stuff.
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