on an old garment

I'm finding that it's hard to articulate where I'm at in any given moment emotionally, spiritually, mentally, intellectually. Usually whatever I can articulate is already old news, often almost obsolete. This poem is from two weeks ago, and I'm only brave enough to share it because things keep moving, I keep moving. And I hope it will help anyone else who feels this way to feel less alone. 

lying awake.

I can only run

so long. 

it’s all coming apart. 

unraveling faster than I can grasp. 

hope was a rope

that used to hold me,

used to comfort and soothe me. 

but now hope is a thread,

the final remnant 

for a little longer

that I watch 

in resignation. 

my mind is in knots 

I can’t untangle.

my heart is wearing thin,

tearing holes,

fraying. 

does it all just have to go?

I can’t sew a new patch 

on an old garment.