![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRu3r8zSEheRoHD_GDy7hOKVPq7NdvQwPhIKPRTg_f18ZNl5nwdUJIPvnSgionIFScvz-TmMAIgkSFnRnOVVjLsTDtRhBoc6W69MgGkxP4szpZhU_psIywVX5-Zoh4oJA93fWN7W5cSv3g/s200/device.jpg)
Simile : My heart can seem like a drop of blood hanging in the sky without acceptance and understanding.
Metaphor : At times I feel as a solitary dove among crows and then someone makes time for me.
Personification : When I act against who I know I should be my soul goes hungry.
Onomatopoeia : In my agony, my gasps are as a gurgling rattle until I understand that it is not always about me.
Oxymoron : Simmering below the surface I sense the presence of a cold fire needing release to truly burn.