Tension Break

I sorted bills, old envelopes,

the kind that stack like broken hopes.

A yellow band, pale and dry,

held years of late fees, by and by.

I tugged it, just to see it stretch,

a flimsy, tired, sorry wretch.

It gave a sigh, a quiet snap,

and fell, a dead, limp, yellow trap,

upon the linoleum floor.

No good for holding anything anymore.

Just two sad pieces, brittle, thin.

Like everything I'm holding in.