When you lose,
for real,
not just little losses,
but big,
frantic losses,

the world stops,
freezes in a tableau
of yes and no,
of right and empty,

and you’re left
with broken
and not full.

You’re left
with tears falling faster
than you can feel them,
faster than you can
weep them.

You’re left with
shells, fragments.

That’s what I am.


Not whole.

Just shards
floating through time
wishing to not be
so sharp,
so lonely,
so frozen.


2 thoughts on “Losing

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