by Angela Shrader
if you ask me, I am unwound
a spindle of thread undone,
a maze of knots and loose ends
I am unraveled
—unfixable in my mess
threads peeled out from their home
peaking over the seams
threatening to undo it all 
I am undone
a missing button on your coat
—lost in the way you lost me
belonging to the pocket at your heart
easily replaced and never returned
If you ask me, I am worn
time has frayed my edges
and now
I am useless,
unable to keep you warm