Mon, 06/23/2014 - 13:23 -- hsmith7


Like a piece of Mom’s good china set that never made it back,

Back into the cabinet.

Shattered into pieces, this hollow muscular organ lays

In the pit of my stomach

Like this shattered dish lays on the kitchen floor.

Torn is your mind, when a part of you wants to put it back together

But another part of you wants to throw it away and forget everything

Should I try? Do I use glue?…. or is there too many pieces

To start over again?

I can’t stand the sight of the mess I’ve made,

So I run, run

Run into my safe haven, where my eyes can be distracted

Or will they?

Instead, they fill with salty tears,

Like a spotless white bathtub being filled for a relaxing bath

The water slowly fills this oval-shaped structure

Slowly, Slowly….

Until it reaches the brim, and the first drop of water falls down the sides of the tub

Then drop by drop, the water falls uncontrollably and wildly,

Like Niagara Falls in my own bathroom.

But I don’t pay attention

Why? Because all I can think of is how this hollow muscular organ,

This vital organ that should be pumping blood from out of my chest

Into the rest of my body

Is laying lifelessly in the pit of my stomach.

Running back to the kitchen, I stare at this precious dish of Mom’s on the floor.

No longer can I pretend that the bright beautiful sun is shining, or that the birds are chirping at

The purple and red crack of dawn.

I pick up the broom and the dustpan, and sweep

I sweep

But this time I don’t sweep it under the rug,

Nor do I attempt to crazy glue Mom’s beautiful white dish back together

I sweep the mess up, and I throw it all away

Because the leaves don’t always stay on the trees

And the pain always heals

I have hope that someday, this hollow muscular organ

Will find its way out of the pit of my stomach

And back into my chest

Where I can learn to love, and let go

And Mom will understand that I never meant to break this dish of 38 years of age.

Imperfection at its best,

And a heartbreak that will eventually become true love again.




Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741