patches

there is
a hole
in the center of
my patchwork
soul
that threatens
to swallow me
whole.

when i was
a kid
i would sit
in the branches
of an old
oak tree
and stare at
the world in wonder.

now i sit
alone
wondering
exactly how long
it has been
since anything
made any
sense at all.

falling in
upon myself
tumbling
down down down
into the
hole in my
patchwork soul
swallowed whole.

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