If I were a month, I’d be
October, when you pull out your cozy-but-not-wooly sweater and lace up your tennis shoes and watch the leaves change as you walk the streets with your cup of tea warm in your hand.
If I were a day of the week, I’d be
Thursday, when the anticipation is building building building for Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be
the time you lose when you're sleeping.
If I were a planet, I’d be
Pluto - is it or isn't it?
If I were a sea animal, I’d be a
parrot fish, cause who wouldn't want to be a parrot fish?
If I were a direction, I’d be
Northwest.
Little bit off center.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a
really comfy couch with ice cream stains.
If I were a liquid, I’d be the
strawberry lemonade.
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a
pearl, just cause okay yeah.
If I were a tree, I’d be a
bonsai. No I wouldn't. I have no idea.
If I were a tool, I’d be a
a guy.
If I were a flower, I’d be a
daisy.
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be
the calm before the storm.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a
recorder; you left it behind a long time ago but it still lingers in your closet.
If I were a color, I’d be
blueblueblue as the sky.
If I were an emotion, I’d be
flummoxed.
If I were a fruit, I’d be an
apple.
If I were a sound, I’d be
the clicking of a mechanical pencil, the buzz of your computer late at night, and the silence of it all.
If I were an element, I’d be
the element of your desire. Wait, who am I kidding? The elements of art, literary elements.
If I were a car, I’d be a
much-loved but broken down something-some-number.
If I were a food, I’d be a
Popsicle.
If I were a place, I’d be
the inside of your mind.
My mind.
If I were a material, I’d be
fake.
If I were a taste, I’d be
the flavor of koogle, the unspellable food.
If I were a scent, I’d be
cucumber mellon.
If I were an object, I’d be a
movement-sensing light switch.
If I were a body part, I’d be a
pinky finger.
Unnecessary but you keep it around anyway.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be a
mole face.
See picture.
If I were a song, I’d be
that one you love but can never remember the name of.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be
your much-loved but worn-away chucks that you feel guilty for not wearing.
