New Life
Hermit crab human scuttling about
In my new life. Ill fitting suit.
Like wearing your mother's clothes -
Clip clopping around the kitchen...
High heals filled with little feet...
And dreams of an old lady and her children.
Have I wandered too far into the fiction section.
My old life discarded on the floor
It no longer fits. Too tight. Constricting now.
Still warm with memories as I nudge it with my toe.
Now there's room to grow -
rather baggy if truth be told.
I twist and turn in front of the mirror.
Trying to imagine a time this feels like home.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
