Nothing Left

There comes a time, I think
When perhaps, nothing is left
No more pieces to reshape
No more ashes to sift through
No more walls to pound against
No more floors to stomp my feet
No more ceiling to keep me in place

If so, then what is left of me
When there’s nothing more to pick up
No more paths, right or wrong
Which to choose, no more ache
No more shivering in the cold
No more darkness
Or light, in which to hide
Nothing to give, nothing to take
No layers left, to unfold

If morning comes, but once again
Will I be left, in between
Things I’ve known, things I’ve done
A freefall, from what I once believed
Will there be a scream, no longer silent
Will there be a breath, not a first
Not a last, exhaled across, through time
To return, and engorge untested lungs
With a newfound knowledge
As this, all begins again


  1. First, this is absolutely divine. It wasn’t until my sixth pass through that I even, hours later, feel like I can comment. This is deep. And real. And thought-provoking. And evocative. So much going on. Upon first glance, I was reminded of a comment you made to me once, quite some time ago: “I think perhaps if we were able to say exactly what we wanted to say, exactly how we wanted to say it, then we might only say it once. And with that, a lot would be lost.” How does this tie in, you ask? Because while you were commenting on our art and never really grasping the finished product or never quite saying it right so we keep at it and keep at it…. so too in relationships, if there is a constant push and pull, up and down, give and take, it is balanced. But, however, if the two cancelled themselves out, it would flatline. Stagnate? The words would cease to flow. The dynamic would be lost. I don’t know. I guess I’ll go right back to the beginning and say: wow, River. This. Is. Superb.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Funny, I have had this theme of getting to the end and having to start over (whether we want to or not) running through my head for months now. Oh I do love when someone finds the words you’ve been seeking and presents them on a beautiful platter… this is… incredibly deep and moving. I do love your writing…

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  3. Hi River,for some reason all my messages through twitter are failing to send so I m going to write you here to thank you for the review.i hope you genuinely enjoyed the little dirty secrets of the Irish countryside 😉😘

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh ok then .Im glad you enjoyed,now it me having many doubts as my husband pointed out I cut far too much and its lack of description plus the end is a bit rushed 😱I’ll keep it in kind for next one….what’s done is done🤷🏻‍♀️

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Hmm. I don’t feel the ending was rushed. I found it satisfying. And the amount of description is somewhat subjective, in my opinion. There can always be more, but is it necessary? Sometimes being overly detailed can take away from the story. Finding the balance can be difficult. I lean more to the minimalist side myself.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. That said from you makes me feel better😀I don t like over descriptive books either but I suppose I could write more….balance is hard and in the end it was my first attempt.😊thank you so much for everything River.💗

        Liked by 1 person

  4. No more pieces and ashes or paths (even wrong ones) is such powerful imagery, so desolate and hopeless, yet oddly freeing. The ceiling was perceived by me to be a needed boundary, which is fascinating, like without it, you would be lifted into the void. “No more darkness/Or light, in which to hide” made me think of those who hide their true selves and stories in the false, public light. IF morning comes… chilling. And the breath “exhaled across, through time”… damn. I heard and felt it. I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, one gift you have is making accessible through non-superfluous diction, layers upon layers of meaning. It truly leaves the reader with thoughts as far-reaching as that breath…

    Liked by 1 person

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