Sewing
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dreamcatcher, dreamcatcher catch me a dream
a pretty, shiny, lovely thing
a siren song that gleams
let it cover up the ugly parts
the mismatched cloth and clumsy stitches
shoved underneath the bed to hide
I’ve tied my body to someone else’s for so long
Sewn my hands to another’s back
But now, I look down at the scars
From ropes and staples and thread
i was a full garment before i met you.
i may have had some loose strings,
but they were nothing that a pair of sewing scissors couldn't fix.
then you gave me that million-dollar smile.
Twas floritz and the checkic wroves
Were stitch and stab in the zuture.
All chintszy were the floves,
And the threed reaths gature.
there is a doll i own
it resembles me, down to the bone
so whenever i start to change my ways
it changes too, on the same days
one day i decided to change it myself
even though i knew it could change itself
A Conversation in Stitches.
Sewing is like a lonely morning.
Spent at a table,
With a group of people around you.
While you think by yourself.
The machine sings a comforting song.
A growl and a sigh
I'm so sick of this.
I long reminisce
Of my closed peaceful eyes,
And the deep calming breath
Slowly lifting my chest.
Just to lay down and rest
Bump, bump, bump, the needle goes.
Stitch after stitch; they form a row.
Two pieces of fabric sewn to make a seam.
Sew, pull, cut; it becomes a routine.
Hard work and imagination you need
I don't think that I can see it as well as other people
You can do it again and again for centuries
Checking my work
My new job
Making costumes
Doing makeup
The only thing that can make me happy
I don’t know which I care for more:
The sewing machine on the shelf
Or my starving piggy bank.
All the different settings
Sing songs with lyrics
That are in a different language
