Wrong Again
It was a hesitancy, the tiniest of red flags, but easily swept beneath a rug of running thoughts and loose ideas. Gradually they build up, each collectively forming pockets of ominous red signs. Thankfully her rug has an eye appealing design, and it’s easy to ignore the slight bumps beneath. Her subconscious notices, issuing insistent, hesitant whispers gradually escalating into a slightly audible alarm. Easily ignored but persistent none the less.
Suddenly the mounds became mountains not so easily ignored. What was once a smooth sailing, an easy trek through became insurmountable, impossible, impassible. But like fools will do, she pressed on, testing every crevice, looking for a way to make it work. Determination and refusal to admit self defeat, that she had been wrong, that she had once again fucked up, kept her from turning around. With each attempt she dug further and further, until with a grim realization she knew. There was no way through. Memories and moments seeped into her mind. Overwhelmingly happy at first, then gradually becoming more watered down until they became crispy with salt and regret.
She folded herself up in a chrysalis
Tightly, carefully
Leaving no loose ends to unravel
There in her dream world
She created
And Created
With no thought to the future
Weaving the threads of her past
Those tear soaked lessons
Into something beautiful
Something to show for a life fully lived
Besides the carcass of a heart broken many times over