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