The frame reverberates with the combined shudder of a closing door and the suck of negative air pressure.
After your grand leaving gesture I am left standing in the void.
My heart crouches, small and wary.
I gather the loose ends of my psyche, unraveling as it was in a need to curl up on the floor and roll away somewhere safe. Instead of a smooth ball, I feel the beginnings of a lumpy, knotted plan.
Am I weak? Am I strong? Maybe somewhere between those bookend compass points I hover, a needle looking for north, or something approximating it.