Seven Years of Bad Luck

Glass On the Ground

When things fall apart
they crumble
break
crack.

Often the flight down is subtle:
An unexpected series of events melding together
as
one
big
catalyst.

A friend may lend a hand,
A sister might call…

When things fall apart
they shatter
bleed
unravel.

A spool of yarn unfurling itself:
wisps of string
flowing toward
an
unyielding
decent.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s