Tumble dry
I have to become something
It will iron out my faults
Like a shirt with too many creases that still needs to be worn
I’m a bed sheet with too many stains and too many folds from restless nights
It’s okay when the sheet has a history
Has a memory
Has a past
Has the time you spent with your future wrapped in a ball all broken and stretched
Has the times you spent recovering from the heartbreak of the time
Watching the Simpsons on repeat until you mix her name with homers and laugh to yourself in a hungry sadness
I want to become part of a life not a thing to be discarded because it’s damage causes more disgust than it does sentiment
What can a piece of fabric with holes cut out and black marks in its middle be if not a work of art
To be admired by some and misunderstood by many
Where does it go
Does it go with all the others
Burnt recycled washed and repurposed
Into the machine
Into the personalised fix for one hundred pound a week
Into the wash to be made anew
Something the same as before but without the scars of its past
I don’t want to be new
I want to be me
I want to be seen
I want to be wanted
The black marks not defining my value
And making more while finding something new when being wrapped up in it
All stained, torn, and marked
Beautifully marked
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