Disappointment weighs down on you,
Like a sharp jagged pitch-black stone,
Lodged deep within, filling you with cuts,
Now embedded in your gut,
A bitter pill too tough to swallow,
Feeling impossible to dislodge.
In that peculiar pit of sorrow,
Feelings of inadequacy swirl about,
Now worthlessness settles there,
All smiles seem to fade,
and laughter sounds like a distant memory,
like whispers in a hollow corridor.
Anything else that happens that day,
Is a reminder of that disappointment,
It grows into something ugly, something bigger,
Making minuscule things harder to bear,
Every little thing makes you want to let out
All and any rage or tears, you’re ready to blow.
Each small moment thereafter,
Someone uttering words we dread or don’t like,
A text that goes unread, uninvited messages,
Unwelcome advice, the heavy approach of grey clouds
Creates a spark, igniting a fuse that’s ready to explode,
Fracturing the stillness as the walls start to give way.
