#InvisibleThreads
Where the world of ours
Slowly began to be woven
From the invisible threads of us,
That came from a place
That houses the unseen.

As time passed,
The cloth felt firm—
This was comfort,
Warmth, and love,
That blanketed us from
The cold, cruel world.

Again, time passed,
The threads began to strain,
From the harsh and uneven,
Different tempers and different chills,
Leaving it to slowly unwind
And tightening the knots.

Now, when the time came,
The unwound thread stretched
To the edge of tolerance,
And one fine evening, it snapped.
There, the unraveling ends won,
Leaving scars and tears,
Bleeding and lying on the ground
For fate to weave again,
The threads
From the scars and tears,
And to close its own ends.

© RukiaAckerman