They start small, the cracks.
So small you barely feel them.
But gradually,
they set in,
growing larger each day.
So the cracks are no longer cracks,
they're fissures,
then valleys,
until there are hundreds of
Marianas Trenches
criss-crossing your heart.
Your patch work is useless.
You can't tell their beginning from their end.
The only option left is to
live with them
and wonder
how your heart manages to beat,
how your lungs fill with air,
how your legs can still propel you forward
when you feel like you're
suspended in time.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
They start small, the cracks.
So small you barely feel them.
But gradually,
they set in,
growing larger each day.
So the cracks are no longer cracks,
they're fissures,
then valleys,
until there are hundreds of
Marianas Trenches
criss-crossing your heart.
Your patch work is useless.
You can't tell their beginning from their end.
The only option left is to
live with them
and wonder
how your heart manages to beat,
how your lungs fill with air,
how your legs can still propel you forward
when you feel like you're
suspended in time.