For What She’s Worth



Fallen, but not discarded.

Her value lies not in her

ability to contain

her chaos within set seams,

clutch remnants when brute tidal

waves beat against her dormers,

but in her audacity

to bloom down in the trenches.


Even Thread

Even thread can be threadbare;

grit and desperation

only go so far.

When the last strand snaps,

and she falls through the cracks,

who will sew her shut?