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
Together.
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 🙂
AwWWwW
AMAZING! How’re you doing?? Xxx
This sounds beautiful x
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! 🙂
beautiful. i love your poetry xx
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 💗
This is a beautiful poem!
I love this