Sometimes sorrow seeps out of the seams of my heart, up my wind pipe and into the back of my throat.

I am strangling on my own grief.             You can see me turning 50 shades of violet

and I just wish that you would move behind me,

pass your arms around my chest.

Your strong fists

pumping my sternum
in a surprising taking of action.
In a valiant heroic geste.

Sending that condensed form of unhappiness, black and hard like a hockey puck out of me, expelled from my body, sent careening through the air until like a bullet it would be lodged in a sturdy ceiling beam

where a person could yearn to hang himself.


  1. filledandfooled

    Stunning imagery. Heavy, sad, worrisome. Please, even if only to a small degree, I hope that writing this out has heimliched some of that dark ball of sadness out. Insofar you won’t dream of any sturdy ceiling beams being used for anything but holding the roof or floor above! (Are you okay? Many hugs Dawn)

  2. Hyacinth

    I like this because its beautiful, but dislike it because I don’t want you to hurt so. I want you to feel ribbons of sunshine and rainbows in your hair and on your skin. xx Hy

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