Help

Empty tissue boxes

An old photo album on the floor,

Open to a page well worn.

A journal

Ink smeared and running

Pages crinkled, ruffled.

Phone on the floor

Beside me

A silent offer made.

Yet I remain

Flipping through the pages

Flipping through the memories

Through the wheel of time

The moments cherished

The moments burning

A vibration.

Help is near

Maybe even needed.

But I stay under blankets

Because darling, I’m going down

And I can’t drag you with me.

Reviews

[Curtis.Lenker]

Great work here. I know what its like to be that way after a relationship. Its a pretty bad feeling. I had a real personal connection to this piece. Thanks for sharing.