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Meka Boyle Feb 2012
It's not falling in love that scares me,
It's the falling out of it.
You know, the feeling that creeps up on you,
Like a tear in nyolon stockings, or an old knit sweater.
Not a big obnoxious ****, but a tiny run that eventually dismantles the entire garment,
Leaving it forlorn and impossible to wear.
Tossed aside in an old wastebasket, only to be taken out for reminicing.
We're destined for that kind of falling apart, I think.
I know it isn't fair, but it's inevitable,
And the more we try to avoid it,
The longer we pretend it doesn't exist,
The harsher it becomes, catching us off guard.
Slowly infesting the shadows of our doubts,
Until it takes over, leaving us naked
Face to face with the unwraveling truth:
Nothing that lasts is beautiful,
And nothing that's beautiful lasts.
For, every time "I love you" is uttered,
The fabric between us wears a little thinner,
Exposing our flesh to the unforgiving coldness of leaving.
Making us vulnerable in the worst kind of way.
Breanne Johnson Apr 2012
Twice she came and twice she went,
Each time with less a grasp of reality.

Arms spread wide,
Head thrown back,
Her dress whirrled silver as she spun.

Fast, like a clock.
Turning back years in minutes.
A spindle unwraveling threads of silk.

When she stopped she never stumbled,
Only swayed.
The wandered away,
In wistful delirium.
Pink Taylor Jul 15
'22
ever since the end
of the longest thing I've ever known
I can't help but find myself
looking around for clues,
little pieces of thread
that hint at an unwraveling.
If I learn not to pick at them
can I keep it all in tact?
Can I keep you close to me?

When you seperate our books
into 'yours' and 'mine' shelves
I'm wondering
if it's so they're easier to pack.
When I'm not home
are you going through our pen drawer
to make your own portable ink?
Creating divisions in your mind,
color-coded cabinets
you can quickly grab and leave?

— The End —