#219 of 365 – “stale bread”

“stale bread”

 

I am bruised

and dilapidated

an old shack

in the woods

 

stale bread

a broken toy

in a store

of damaged goods

 

I want to cover

my purple

and blackened

splotches

 

hide

all the mirrors

and smash

all the watches

 

but space

won’t fold for me

and time

won’t bend

 

and the holes

in my fences

and soul

won’t mend

 

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About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Anxiety, Depression, Despair, Poetry, Recovery and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to #219 of 365 – “stale bread”

  1. [?]

    On Fri, May 9, 2014 at 10:01 PM, ElevenFifty9

  2. Starralee says:

    Oh WOWZA, I’m speechless.

  3. pi314chron says:

    Love the allusion to “space-time” in stanza 5 and possibly (?) to a black hole in stanza 6. So cool that I had two “space-time” haiku earlier in the week. Great minds?! Yeah, that’s the ticket! On a more sober note, I’m sorry that your situation is still somewhat unsettled and that you aren’t yet back on top of “the world.” Time heals. Nuff said from me! <>

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