she wasn't breathing by the watercooler

I dripped out of a poem like this once on my way down.

I ended up pissing off all of my friends

while feeling the weight of my heart waxing.

There was a sense of destruction in the

air of the dormitory lobby. The rest

of the campus was unaware she wasn’t wasn’t breathing.

Simple flowers decayed in their pots.

This poem made me feel heavy

when I realized I had seen her.

Except she was by a water cooler

and I married her thinking I could fix her.

The worst part about fixing broken women

is once they're fixed,

they don't need you anymore.

Reviews

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

ain't that the truth....I sunk and I wallowed and I crept and crawled...I emerged empathetic and I managed to stand upright by threads sewn to wooden pews and historic tree rantings. I dried my hands hourly and helped them outright with firm grasps....it seemed like decades passed. In darkness I saw the twinkle of lights and in the silence I heard confessions. The holy waters I carried left scares. My warrior heart sits outside on the pocket of my shirt and only the tiniest sparkle of perfection is left in my right eye. There are no more ladders of silky hair or true love kisses....just a rickety bridge that says.. BEWARE....

[Alfred Kukitz]

In the woes of love rarely do we see beyond one or two steps. When my breath came back I found myself in the same place, same time with an ugly memory in my head. Nice write Silver!

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i married a broken woman...yes, couldn't fix her...and soon the relationship wasn't breathing...

and a couple other women who needed fixing...same gig...they get better and we get left behind.

kind of how it happens...and those flowers decay in their pots, as you so aptly express.

excellent piece.