You said it was like the time when I broke the eggs;

The splat on the floor –

the gasp, the gooey mess.

                          I laughed,

                                 but with pain.

And said ‘No’, it wasn’t like that, it was worse.

The fragile shells breaking, into pieces

                                                                        and cracking again.

The yolks and the whites, merging and runny

Like the urge to cry,

but such a silly thing

                                       to give in.

No, it’s so not funny.

I can’t just spill it out like those dropped ova,

yet I’ve become unstuck like a clam

who has lost her footing.

And I’ll do anything to take back root,

A hireling for un-use, give me something;

Give me hope.