Wrinkled Sheets

I bought a nice new pair of cotton sheets this week to replace my old pilled polyester sheets. I really just wanted to feel the cool cotton on bare legs, this summer has been so hot. The thing I guess I never really looked into was the fact that cotton sheets actually involve so much more work than expected! More specifically they wrinkle, and these ones wrinkle bad. Upon further contemplation I decided that these sheets symbolize practically everything I’ve been trying to do lately.I try these new things with earnest hope, but they just wrinkle overnight. I can see everything I did wrong laced in everyone of the 600 counted threads. So I remake my bed, and still wake up in wrinkles, but for some reason this bothers me less than making the bed does at night. You don’t have to look at the creases when you are asleep wrapped up in them. Maybe that is what I need to do, wrap myself in my imperfections, and sleep in them till they feel warm.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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