me, a tiny moth
i'm unsettled
i'm scattered
and i don't know which light is the right one
i'm not the person i knew
or the person i want to me
i feel like a blueprint folded into origami
and i don't know how to be useful
i've been taking magazine clippings
like little bits of stolen wool
i've been keeping them in a book
making pictures of the parts
and i don't know where my heart is
i don't know what i want from the bulb