Were Not Some Part of Her

there was once a hole in her heart
where no love would grow,
a void not desolate, no,
it was an urban uproar,
expectations as tall and as
sharp as city skyscrapers,
all angles and edges,
streets littered with elbows
and crowded corners,
she a pedestrian on an
endless, one-way route of regret,
her yearning a suffocating smog,
a desperate redness
swelling in her tired chest,
droplets of shameful acid rain
eroding roads,
rationalizations the pits and falls
on the map to nowhere

were not some part of her
made of steel and concrete,
her soul would have suffocated,
her lungs would have exploded
against the weight

were not some part of her
a cartographer,
bravely charting the void,
the child inside would never have
ventured forth to find nourishment

were not some part of her
a gardner,
feeding the green amongst
the steel and concrete,
her spirit would not now
know such sustenance

were not some part of her
an architect,
unafraid to draft and erase,
hope would have died long, long ago,
and her heart would not now be whole

-image is my own

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3 thoughts on “Were Not Some Part of Her

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