Week 14/ April 3, 2026 - Writing practice

10 Metaphors A Week

1. Adroit fingers with a rubix cube

Like watching a spider weave a web in reverse

2. I was done

Let the myoglobin pool

3. Displayed and unwanted

Like browned ground meat

Like a miner with an ink-covered pickaxe, I searched the caves of my mind for an elusive treasure- metaphors.

- My mind is a fragile membrane being punctured by spears of thoughts.

- My mind is a goldfish swimming in circles while a single eye, freakishly distorted by the curvature of the glass bowl, examines it from the outside.

- My mind is a deadly dagger slicing keenly through a leaf spinning amongst the stars in the wake of a passing asteroid.

- My mind is a delicate spiderweb quivering with the arrival of each fly of afterthought.

- My mind is a filthy pit of sticky molasses bubbling wetly and beneath it, unseen by my eye, something swims.

- My mind is an agitated swarm of bees.

- My mind is space debris.

- My mind is a faintly groaning husk of a creature being eaten alive.

-My mind is a petrified flower.

- My mind is a swathe of colours alive to the delight of using the word ‘swathe’ twice in a sentence about itself.

- My mind has a mind of its own.

- My mind is either a dead leaf or the thin layer of frost that shrouds it.

- My mind is an open sore.

- My mind is a most fantastic acrobat, the cleverest one for whom the crowd swells to a roar as she balances upon a tightrope spun from the finest thread of emotions while executing the dangerous trick of all: the trick of avoiding hindsight

- My mind is an injured acrobat.

- My mind is a bronze coin glinting on the sidewalk; pretty to look at but of little value.

- My mind is a broken music box.

- My mind is a neon sign on an abandoned strip club with half the letters lit up, flickering tiredly in the dark.

- My mind is the jingling of a belt being unbuckled by an unshaven man with bloodshot eyes in a squalid gas station urinal.

- My mind believes itself to be worthy of descriptives such as ‘kaleidoscopic mandala’ or 'cosmic hummingbird’ even if it can’t yet figure out how to apply such sweet nothings to itself.

- My mind is a trace of butterfly saliva left on some freshly blooming chrysanthemums.

- My mind is some corrupted software with a constant background theme of the Windows 1995 error message.

- My mind! is the sucking, gurgling sound made by a blocked kitchen sink full of dirty dishwater when it finally clears up after a week of blockage. Such moments are always thrilling.

- My mind is a bit of grit stuck inside my shoe that I can’t seem to remove no matter how hard I shake it.

- My mind is a parenthesis without anything in between.

- No! My mind is a universe barely contained by any parentheses within a cat’s digestive system, nestled close to a hairball.

- Sometimes my mind is a lone dustmote lit up by a sunbeam in a cavernous darkness. I’ve noticed this happening most when we’re crumpled together in bed and she opens her eyes, smiles and whispers, 'hey.’ I hate these moments because it’s even darker when the sunbeam fades.

- My mind is a cassette with all the tape guts spilled out.

- My mind is the chalk outline drawn around a body at a crime scene.

- My mind is a staccato patchwork of songs criss-crossed together like electricity wires on long, long utility poles and thank god for that.

- My mind is a pixel.

- My mind is that one glass the bartender keeps polishing with an old rag cleaner than the glass itself.

- My mind is a bird trapped in a room full of naked, sparking voltage wires.