CouldaShoulda
She sits on a stool
in the middle of a yesterday room
eyes squeezed shut
as her phantoms circle ‘round
circle ‘round 'n 'round
their hollowed voices chant an endless
why? why did you…? whydidyou??
mantra|mantra_ing
from all that hard mined deep time
from days long-ago-past yet-not
those never-really-past days of ago.
their discordant chords siphoned
from yesterdays' poor performance
those depths of times behind her, yet-not,
those never-really-locked loosely keyed doors
from all that of the 'whatever' she
stuffed behind closed doors.
Her eyes with dead-ended sight fused shut
for she cannot force them open
for she cannot bear
to see the tragic
sweet lives randomly
pieced apart
strewn crazily
at her feet…
all that of all the what
of those shoulda-beens
all that
what-coulda-shoulda-mighta-been
but wasn't.
Copyright © Sarah Ann Jullion | Year Posted 2023
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