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Anti Cot-tonic
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Extended Metaphors I once had no difficulty
Breathing and remaining
Soft, supple to the touch.
But you began to
Spin me around
A spool of fabrication.
Then you pinched me
With needles
Of evil intentions.
I became coarse-fibered
By the tempering
Of spiteful, rough hands.
You removed what
Made me pure
Adding impurities instead.
You reduced my degree
Of resilience and
Ability to assimilate.
You twisted me
Until I was only knots
And utterly useless.
