Unraveled

I have never thought of it before. And I an ashamed to have to admit that. But I wonder how many people out there walk around with a hole in their heart. No, not the physical heart, the metaphysical one. And the hole is caused by death and only filled by time, if ever.

I wonder how many have the veneer of being "OK" when asked how they are doing, but are really not forthcoming with how they really feel.

I wonder how many have anger or tears or overwhelming sadness bottled up behind the face they show the world.

I wonder how many people go from day to day, living in the small moments, a memory of something that once was, that will never be again.

I wonder how many carry on, oars against the wind, with the burdens of living amongst the ghosts of the past.


A simple itch
crawls along the forearm
A dangling string
from a burgundy sweater
I pull the thread
and cinch it tight
Ready for the quick
and painless snap
A single tear today
falls with the thread
Coloring the white chalk
pavement with a drop of blood.