I Am Poem

I am a broken screen door,

what creaks at night and frightens.

Wood slats on an old house.

I swing out big like promises, big like hope.

I am a noise maker.

I am slapping the walls, knocking around inside your brain

dry rot taste in your mouth.

I am memory, the past, an old soul with a fresh coat of mustard paint

chipped at the hinges.

I am used, useful, fixable, functional.

Eyes see through me.

Breeze blows through me.

I am weak and courageous.

Flimsy and firm.

I am your defense against the storm.

Thanks to Steph for posting this prompt.  It's my new favorite writer's block defeating tool, followed closely by the I Am From poem.