Stitches Without Mending Poem by Amanda Swindahl

Stitches Without Mending



Written by: Amanda Swindahl

Time is temperamental, a robbery aggrieved, an irrational motive.
Down, Down, Down.
Time is stealth, a mockery of the heart,
Sneaking up on you just as you realize it's too late.
Time slips through you with a grasp of your heart,
Down, Down, Down.
a flood of vengeance soaking through.
Time is a mirage with delicacy,
Tripping you into a stumble before the collapse,
Down, Down, Down.
Time is a crutch; it stitches you without mending,
Time is a storm, punishment that moves uninvited.
Time strut's its shadow,
Dims by the hour,
the monster in my closet,
the skeleton to my heart.
Time is a portrait to my memory,
and all that matters is missing,
Time that heals is a lie,
a bittersweet nothing.
Time sets in near and only numbs all you feel.
Collapse in time, a storm that rains on your heart,
Down, Down, Down.
A tornado that keeps your mind spinning.
Time is drowning, suffocating frenzy thoughtless and at your very stumble time is a crutch, a stitch without mending,
Heartless and soul demanding.
Time is a rupture that slowly dissolves,
Fatally slipping,
Fingers grasping, just another moment to hold on,
just as you realize your falling
Down, Down, Down.
Only to wake in the ground.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success