Long past I cut fragments
from those I loved,
from magazines,
took bits and pieces
of my memories
and snippets of experiences.
Paste in hand I forged
a colossal picture,
a rugged gathering
of the stories, places
and personalities
that were my formation.
Time passed with the new
crowding the old,
covering the regrets
and morphing my image-
Making hiding myself
a habit to get lost in
Now a kinder set of hands
guides me as I rip away layers
of the skin collage.
He allows only the purest,
truest form to remain.
Finally- it resembles me.
Author notes
Penned May 4th 2009.
8:57pm EST
Comments
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Very nice with a hopeful ending. It's weird how we can lose ourselves sometimes. It's nice to see you back at AP!
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very well written. i like collages so i really liked the way you did this write. thank you for sharing this with me today and i look forward to reading more from you in the near future. viyanna rosemarie
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Nice approach to the collage version of being. We are so full of baggage and we claim it as who we really are. You catch this nicely with your montage language and tale of how other's tales became entwined with yours. Perhaps the way you describe the pasteing makes you sound to contrived and pretensious, but prehaps you are.
It is a happy, go-lucky fairy tale ending to have it be a guy who helps you pare down to the essenstials, discover the clues that lie beneath the denial and decoration. Then again, it is only those who truly love us that can be the mirrors where we can see ourselves. Delishious verse.
Love, Tom B.
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