These are 2 shorter poems I wrote... they seem good in a pair, so I have them sharing this space.
9/18/2012:
What untold small heartbreak, tiny personal tragedy, disappointment and duress await me tomorrow?
Such that barely a ripple will be seen by anyone while inside I drown...
Small hole:
There is a small hole, directly in the center of my chest, where all the cold wind blows. Where sadness and wretchedness and the unfixable torment of mistakes, indignities and dank-filthy-letdowns live and thrive. A place that takes up little space and is usually covered up and overcome by warmth, hope, love. Hope. Forgetfulness of failure, and hope. But every so often this small hole is opened up and into your bloodstream runs this horrible sadness, and into your throat grows a lump.
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