Needle and Thread By Polly Pearle

She went to her shelf Carefully studied the spools Wrapped her hand around one And pulled it down

She glanced around the room Looking for the box Where she kept her needles

She had a special one For an occasion like this

She picked up a small mirror And looked down at it

The gaping hole Where her heart had been

She told herself She wouldn’t cry again But the tears had a mind of their own

And rolled down her cheeks Dropped off of her chin Into the open wound

She picked out the sharp needle grabbed the end of the spool and tugged

She kept pulling as she cried

She threaded the needle and snipped the thread

Took a deep breath And pierced the needle through her chest

The more she sewed The more the gap closed Over the hollowness inside

She wondered if she’d ever be all right If the emptiness would die

She tied off the thread Put her things away Poured herself a drink Whispered to herself

“It will be ok”