A broken soul
A soul that is broken
And somehow woven
By delicate little threads
Invisible to the outside eye
But painful to the wearer
A stitch sometimes tears,
Sometimes stretches, sometimes
edges
Close to breaking again
The wearer does not forget
What made it break
Yet neither does it remember
For it might break again
Shattering the illusion
Of being whole
But only to the outside world
Not to the world inside
That will never be whole again
A kind word, a noble gesture,
Makes it cry
A harsh word, an unkind
gesture,
Makes it weep
Memories of long-forgotten fractures
erupt like a volcano
Frightening the poor soul
rushing out, rolling down
fragile eyes, warm cheeks
Melting softly…
~Me
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 3:11 am
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