Shattered Pieces

 

 

Photo Credit: Azn Chibi

Photo Credit: Azn Chibi

Becoming something

that we never

were before,

transforming into

a new species,

new being,

something foreign

and strange.

We change daily

but don’t know it,

realize it.

We see ourselves

through the same

gray film

we always have

and only gargantuan

events wake us

up to how different we’ve become.

Do we ever notice how

our presence has transformed

others?

I wonder if you

really know how you’ve changed me.

Before you,

before there,

chunks of my soul

were slowly drowning

next to the shattered

pieces of my heart.

I was alone

in the middle of the Sahara,

my tongue as dry as the

ocean of sand surrounding me.

No family,

no friends,

only your voice

across the telephone wire

calling me home.

As a blind man,

I found my way

to you

never knowing if you

would love me as totally

as I loved

you.

You picked me up

and held me to your

chest and quietly called

my name,

beckoned me to submit

to your touch,

your love.

When I left,

I no longer recognized

that sad

and broken

girl who had landed

on your doorstep

with scattered pieces

of her life

in her hands.

You had transformed

me,

given me strength

that stemmed from your own,

shown me what love could

be like,

feel like.

Without you,

I’m starting to see

that shattered girl again.

She stands in the shadows,

threatening to toss

all those pieces into the air

and watch them shower me

in who I was,

perhaps who I really am.

I should invite her

in so that you

might want to

help fix me,

transform me

like you did before.

I want to break

so that you can heal

my pieces.

 

Daily Writing Prompt–Transformation

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4 thoughts on “Shattered Pieces

  1. Pingback: The Booknotes | Edward Hotspur

  2. Pingback: From: Me; To: Myself. | The Hempstead Man

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