Metamorph

It's an odd sort of feeling
To be a collection of parts and not a whole.

Dream of pulling apart the pieces
And rethinking the entire composition.

Other people seem to do it better:
Emphasise that which could be covered.

In the old myths people transformed
And, better or worse, it might stick.

Look back at old photographs,
See which bits to chuck away,

And which, collage-like, to put together
Until you finally look like you.