Crinkled

I feel like tinfoil,

Cut from something stronger,

Cheapened material,

All rolled up and stocked, contained,

I lost dimension.

I feel like tinfoil,

Folding into more creases,

Sheathing unimportant portance,

At your whim, crinkled,

Made to hide hallow secrets.

I feel like tinfoil,

Torn apart lightning,

Malleable bodies and souls,

Conformed to something other,

Never whole again.