Ripped up piece of paper, Valentine. Torn up inside. Tear on the perforated line. School books and notebooks. Dead trees used to give life again. Torn apart. Mother and daughter hold on to each other just to be ripped away. Migrant crises. 10,000 word photo. “Tear the ship apart”. Rip Torn. Inside The Actor’s Studio. James Lipton sipping tea in heaven, selecting sweets from a silver tray. Torn up by death, wrecked. The great unknown mystery. Magnifying glass, Taking Back Sunday, “Open arms reject assuming hands”. Feeling the breadth of the documents as I take my hands and pull from opposite angles. The rip sound it makes. Goodbye, divorce. Goodnight, contract. Ta-ta, lawsuit. It is torn, symbolic gesture of forgiveness and it what it feels like to be free of something that once made you so heavy inside. Staying up late mending a broken heart with alcohol. All those nights that made you cry. All shook up. All torn up. Tearing away, peeling away the the layers of who you really are.
