aching for what came before
the whole story is etched in mind’s eye
drawn too tightly
then let go too fast
couldn’t keep up
with the needs of the master
the yawning chasm almost welcomed
but the voice filled it first
not a scream
but a whisper
I almost understood
will it always be my fault
the things that weren’t there
but seemed so real
hurt with real scars to show for it
but feather light filters through
to those who can only barely see
when they’re in the midst of clouds
the story continues relentlessly
whether you comprehend or not
just hold a bit longer
The Word Rummager 
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