she had finally been broken

after all this time

after all this fighting

and with

her last

bit

of

strength

she crawled to your feet

and begged for you to help 

her

but all

you did

was tell her

to get

off

the goddamn 

ground

              - you were her last hope

the pastel colors

the obsession with flowers

pollen makes me sneeze

(allergies, am I right?)

Mundane Minutiae

Weather forecast

calls for rain.

Looking out of my window,

I notice the golden light

of the sun and ask myself,

"Which do I believe,

the science or what I see?"

Then I remember

all of the people

protesting

Social Distancing

and I grab my umbrella.

What do you call it when you're sad from memories you never made and your eyes burn with tears you've never cried? What do you call it when your heart feels heavy from missing people you've never known, never seen, and yet they leave traces in the corner of your mind? What do you call it when you long for a childhood you never had and stolen moments you never took? What do you call it when a piece of you is missing but you don't know what it is or where to find it so your brain tries to fill the gap in but it's all so wrong? What do you call it when it feels like you're standing in line, waiting, just waiting for something and yet you've already missed everything?

Shattered pieces,

broken glass,

tumbled,

sea of tears.

Smooth as words,

seeds sown like grass,

reflecting her

as mirrors.

The pieces of

her heart with holes,

lace,

stolen,

filigree;

diamonds

pressed in darkness,

coal,

shines light

for all

to see.

Her laughing eyes hide many secrets:

unannounced plans, unconsidered acts,

unspoken vanities, untold shames,

unexpected joys, unembarrassed loves,

unclaimed errors, unsung braveries,

the pressing void if no one sleeps nearby.