The Inner Loom

The loom that pedals
its way down my hallway,
crafting its thin string
over my fallen facade,
my broken,
stitched heart,
darns something new
out of the shredded patchwork
of cavities in my chest,
begging me to overlay
my pain with another
layer of red,
and tailor a stronger
seam for all future
wounds to be wary of…

© Christopher Rupley 2015

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