Ache
Dear Diary,
Poetry today…
My heart skitters within
And then there is nothing
Laughter has seeped out
Along with the heartbeat
Tears will not form
It is dry and silent within
Only whispering echoes reside.
Perhaps that I have broken
Will break you
Enough
To see.
Perhaps not.
The vast empty space
Begs for the jagged pieces to be collected and sorted
From their scattered places
Sculpted into something less fragile
Tarnished pieces discarded or polished,
New pieces brought in to fill the holes.
Beauty must be sought
Regardless of the sources
And built over time
To replace the dusty rubble and silence
That has come.
Dear Diary .... by Kellianne Sweeney 