String | A Poem

That last piece of string lies broken,

Frayed from days spent in a freezing sea,

Ice too tired

To stay solid around it;

It’s an unravelled tragedy

Of caring too deeply.

Pull it apart and you can feel

Its spongy texture wasting away

To little more than flakes

Of something much stronger, too afraid

To even pretend to be any longer,

Soaking up the water instead of

Holding it


There are knots in my soul,

Like those on a tree or from twisted rope

I’m not sure;

They tie my tongue in a loop

And imprison the piece of hope

I had left.

I am cold.

I am too tired

To make sense.

I don’t know what this is. All I know is that in some way, it represents how I feel. It was written at a time where all I could feel was this cold desperation and nothing could shake it.

I hope, if this does anything, it can show people that you’re not alone. Things don’t have to make sense all the time.

From Elm 🙂

8 thoughts on “String | A Poem

  1. I believe that things always make sense, but sometimes only for a short time, in a situation that didn’t last, but improved … or got worse.
    I like your poem. It makes total sense to me! 🙂

  2. It’s so amazing how when you put into words how you’re feeling, you could make a masterpiece like that. LOVE your poem, Elm 💗

What did you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s