The Gift

Her soul

wrapped in ribbon

once tied in a bow

has come undone.

She is unraveling

in strange and unstoppable ways.

Once the whole package,

now a single red strand exposed --

snagging on unexpected things.

Fearing she will come to nothing

but a frayed and loose end,

she tries to wind herself back up with

bad poetry and tea

soup and books

visualizations before bed.

Hoping to shut out what triggers her --

which is nearly every word

that has come out of her mouth

in the last year.

The world has gone mad

and so has she --

only, her madness looks like

promises she can't keep

plans she unmakes

every (haunting) dream she ignored.

She is unraveling

in strange and unstoppable ways.

Finally realizing,

after all this time,

she had mistaken

unraveling for unwrapping.

Stacy Oler ©