How to make a vision board

I was his endless supply of honey lemon cough drops.

I was particles of sand that molded and smushed around size 10 feet.

I was the heavy duty flashlight he wedged between the mattress and the box springs.

I was the ripe avocado softening on the jalapeño toast.

I was a kitchen appliance warranty, sealed in clear plastic, waiting. In the junk drawer reservoir.

I became broken styrofoam.

I became a dog unwillingly shaved for the August heat. Shamefully scampering on a New York sidewalk.

Currently, I am a woman sitting awkwardly on a mauve couch after purchasing a deal of a pink sofa, online.

I intend to be… In the future, I will be…

I assume

I’ll be me.