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.



2 thoughts on “THE ECHO

    • Thank you. It has been a while, and everyone’s journey is different. With the distance of time I found it an interesting process to tap into what I remember those emotions were, with the intention of using them to fuel creativity. I hope your journey brings resolution and a north-point presents itself.


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