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