Like a *****
Grinding into the depths of the left hand corner of my brain.
My left not yours.
Scrunched
Is all feeling
Like a piece of paper in a crumbly ball with the folds creased in.
Potentially waiting to see if I will be undone.
Unfolded and put out straight with rough hands that slide up and down my body to make me feel 'new' again.
Smoothing my corners that are twisted in little points with delicate fingers to attempt and make me soft again.
Looking me up and down.
Reading between the lines.
Closely examining my faded parts and dipping a pen, carefully slowly yet swiftly with a stroke of a wrist, filling me in.
Rewriting what has been written on me with a different hand. Shaking and nervous as you go over the closing of me,
the words that say 'love,' and pulling out your white out to brush off the name beneath those words.
And finally inscribe your own name over it.
Put the letter back into my brain and ***** me up again.