An old chair

An old chair from long ago.
I sat in it. I fell asleep in it sometimes too.
It held my weight and I felt its fabric and softness beneath me.
And then I drew it. I transferred my memories of the chair onto paper.
More than any photograph could do.
I am most trasparent in my drawings.
And sometimes in my words.
You can almost see inside me.
Or so I feel.