Heartbreak

As one who is still unbroken if not unscarred
I wonder what a breaking heart feels like—
is it piercing like the keen bite of a knife, or many,
that would leave me gasping and clutching and,
still uncomprehending, bleeding out my life’s blood
onto the feet of my once-beloved?
Or is it that heavy, heavy boulder of regret and blame
that would crash and crush the back,
plastering me with face against the gritty asphalt,
unable to breathe for its punishing weight?
Is it sharp like brittle shards of glass,
full of so many glittering edges
that poke and stick with every step wandered
along the mirrored hall of memory?
Or is it dull, like the phantom throb
of an amputated arm
that would put me off balance
as I reach for something I cannot grasp?
What exacting surgery must it take
to pick out those painful splinters of hopes and dreams
lest they still be tender to the touch
years after the skin has grown over them—
what might force must be used
to lever off the weight of depression
and bind the wounds,
to set the spine straight once again!

7/25/10 Journaling Exercise by David Michael: “Generate lists of opposites, for example, ‘things that are sharp’ and ‘things that are dull’.”

Finally got my ass around to writing some more poetry. A really quickly-written poem, actually…quite overdramatic too! Some lines are eh but there it is.

Anyone want to write some poetry with me? Pick a prompt, send me a challenge, give me a day (or an hour, or 20 minutes like this one), and let’s trade and/or post!