This morning is the first of the July poetry prompts via Open Write, and the theme of the prompt was about threads, and fabric, and broken things. My mind drifted to music, as if it often does for these prompts, and I was remembering an old guitar I had where my I so often played so hard, I would regularly break strings, and bloody my fingers, and sometimes, just keep playing. Those memories were the threads of this poem.
Peace (in broken things),
Kevin