Tattered Me

I am undone ribbons
fraying in the breeze,
worn out by time and 
perpetual use. 

The sum of myself
knotted in clusters,
as I bury my will to love
beneath our feet. 

I’ve said some last words,
jumbled from weeping
and fretful worry. 

What did I expect?

No man desires any
tattered woman,
her hemline sewn
crookedly thin——

Her voice edged in
defeated whispers. 

Through a rabbit hole
you tumbled masterfully,
consumed by another’s 
song.

And how could I blame you? 

I am undone ribbons
fraying in the breeze,
not a whole person to
make you complete. 

Never a woman to love. 

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