Notice of absence from Leny
English is no longer my vessel.
English is no longer my vessel.
He handed me threads, and I held them.
Maybe I wanted to believe
they'll make something whole,
more than I wanted to ask
why some pieces were missing.
He told me they tied the knots,
But it had already fallen apart,
And somehow, I ended up threading
Through the gaps that were never fixed.
The same lines kept showing up.
Threads have a way of tracing what we’d rather forget.
I pulled too hard, and I slipped,
Still tangled in the ends we never tied.
Then he passed his loose ends,
into someone else's hands.
Just like before.
Just like after.
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Author:
Leny (
Offline) - Published: July 14th, 2025 00:26
- Comment from author about the poem: A single thread doesn’t make a rope. And you can’t hold on to something that was never strong enough to carry the truth.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments3
Lovely lines tell a lot.....
very well
This metaphor has so many loose ends to follow. Too short a thread does not allow one to tie a knot, following a thread will eventually lead to an end. Threads joined together make for greater strength and on and on. Very nicely done leaving the ones that tie obscure. A great metaphor
Nicely crafted and worded write with positive message, enjoyed the read
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