When chair becomes a door
Its time that I should stop chasing you
Because I can’t imagine you and me like broken pieces of a chair joined together by glue
Looking ugly
And making that ugly creaking sound
We would rather be those broken pieces
Piled in a corner
Layered with dust so thick that spiders webs can no further worsen it’s condition
Waiting to be reformed into something better
So that when we are at it, we could find a better match for us
I am now a door and the metal latch complements me
Sometimes the children kick me for fun
But it’s okay as is the pain from our separation
It’s just that I miss sometimes the part of me that liked lying around during the day
Was useless and imperfect
Imperfections equate beauty, I always thought but you never believed
I killed that self to become what I am now
A part of whose is still alive within me
Who wants not to die but to express itself
Reminding me of my humble origins
And the futility of everything
