There ought to be a word for describing the vacant hole in my head when no words are coming
or the wounded warp in my soul when words are sent my way that should have been left buried.
They are buried now - deep in that lonely place.
There ought to be a word that could respond to "I'm sorry, that's just the way it is," or "You're done - love has expired."
What wasn't my shelf life longer?
2 comments:
Lea, I can't tell you how many times this piece has echoed in my mind this week! I'm so glad to have a copy now to read again.
Ditto what Linda said!!
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