Rivulets of broken seams,
the crackling of irritation heaves and gleams,
beneath a thin surface
a heated secret boils
does she wish to be anything other
than what and how her impatient heart can muster?
There’s no calm in the desert creek
where parched tongues refused to get along
the sandpaper-like exterior
gingerly, one could prime this picture.
But to see this image fall apart,
though long-awaited were those positive dreams,
it is clear that irritation is what
the present promotes,
a damned unspoken destruction,
meant to be cataclysmic?
To eventually come undone?
The fate lies,
need the ending be spoken of
in bittersweet tunes?
A sing-song chorus of
laid there in their raw glory to view.
Are these pieces able to be
pieced together again?
as of yet,
the picture’s something still
jaggedly beautiful to behold.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by kalhh from Pixabay
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