The Contents of my Pocket

My pocket ripped today. 

The seams burst as if they had had enough, and they couldn't hold on any longer. 

One at a time they slowly let go of each other emptying the entire contents of my pocket on to the floor. 

Out flew the crumpled up homework pages, 

the 17 cents that had been jingling for too long. 

Out crawled the bent paper clips, 

and forgotten notes. 

Out strutted the broken pencils, 

and faded doodles.  

Out sprung the tangled headphones pulling with them the battered bobby pins. 

Out flounced a plastic princess ring 

followed by some stale M&M's 

Out shimmied a blue ball point pen

and an orange sticky note  

Then finally with a thud and a crash 

Out fell my broken watch that had stopped working years ago 

I could get the pocket stitched up. 

I could get it mended. 

I could put everything right back where it was before. 

But I don't think I will. 

I'll keep that hole on the side of my jacket. 

Gaping wide, 

swinging open, 

exposed, 

vulnerable,

Until I find something worth keeping in it again.