Sometimes I forget pieces of myself
Bits and parts that are scattered about
Left here or there like something that I dropped unnoticed
The books I used to read, the church I used to go to, the park I used to play
Of course, when I pick up a fragment
I'm reminded by sharp pricks, quick cuts
that these bits are shards with edges of regret.
Yet, I hold onto these shards
lost in my fondness to notice the pain at first.
Traces of memories along with traces of tears stream out in daydream
These fragments:
My naivety
My faith
My awe and aspirations
Remind me of how broken my perception of myself is.
Shattered my will is to repair the vase that I am.
Yet, I hold onto these shards.
Tracing back to these memories, wanting to trace back to who I was before.
YOU ARE READING
As life goes, so do I
PoetryRead to feel. These poems are written in the hopes that it stirs the emotions. Just maybe someone out there will come across this and find a poem in here that expresses exactly what they are feeling. And for me, I hope that brings comfort to some. T...
