I like to think of myself as a spool of yarn the other person pulls; unraveling me ever so slightly with each small tug. I lose pieces of myself I grow smaller, weaker As time wears on the once thick yarn now barely covers the spool - its foundation poking out between each fine string The tugs at the string are harder now each pull nearing closer to the end They never think to replace the yarn And I don't think to pull some of their own So, I'm left unraveled a plastic shell My fibers hauled elsewhere used to piece together Someone Else
Lovely poem. I like the metaphor.
Thank you so much!