I tore a hole in my favorite socks.
It’s a fitting action.
It happened the day of another hole.
One in my heart.
A hole of someone missing.
My favorite.

I can try to replace those socks
With another pair.
One that also brings me joy.
But I will never love them as much as the original;
It will never be the same.

I can try to sew the socks.
But they won’t be as beautiful.
They won’t be the same.
There won’t be that raw beauty.
It will be forced,
A quick fix for a problem that can return.

Why did they have to break?
Was it I that was careless?
Were they not strong enough themselves?
Or maybe both?

I love those socks;
I always will.
I’ll remember the good times I had with them
Before we went our separate ways.
They treated me well while we were together,
And I am grateful for that.
But for now,
I must say goodbye.