It hits me unaware 
Any place. Any time.  
No sense to the season.
No reason to the rhyme

Inside I have been broken.
I’m incomplete. Not whole.  
There’s a missing piece of
the patchwork of my soul. 

The hole is a portal.
A wormhole through which I'm drawn
to a time that once was.
To something that is gone.

I don't want the ticket.
I do not seek the ride.
Because I find myself longing
to stay on the other side.

Such a tiny little hole,
not very big at all.
I'd say it is the size of
a little kitten paw.