I feel like I'm in a hole.
Not whole, I’m torn in half.
There’s a missing piece, like a jigsaw in a charity shop - reused and
never new again.
Dog eared at the edges, well loved but they’ve moved on to the next
story.
Or maybe I’m on a shelf, an old favourite, waiting to be picked up
with a smile… a fleeting moment, transported to when I was shiny with an
un-cracked spine.
I feel unseen, invisible; like a picture in an album that’s never
opened.
A has been, a once was, a memory.
Once vibrant and full of colour,
Now black and white I’m duller.
In need of restoration, touch me up in photoshop I’ll be good as
new.
Renewed. Refreshed. Revived. Reborn.
Whole again.
Seen again.
Heard again.
Reborn.
