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there are some things (i'd like to say)
December 5, 2017
the thing in the pit
of my stomach
won’t tell me what it wants,
why it gnaws
on my heart
like a marrow bone
(not that I know
what the marrow
might be)
or why,
when it leaves me empty,
buzzing with nothing,
its hole is not filled
by a thing
that will sew shut my rips,
and mold the clay of my rib cage
back in place
© Daniel R., Cicero, IL
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When I wrote this poem, I was drawing on a place of emptiness and exhaustion that sometimes overwhelms me during times of stress. By adressing this feeling, I hope that I can help my readers better understand and process similar emotions.