Fragile fragments are falling. Remnants of what used to be.
Why are things plunging at me but landing at my feet?
Is this what it feels like to drop but never drown?
I catch fragments of these pieces as many as I can.
I don't know why I caught them but I felt like they were crying for help.
Once my arms are full I finally look down.
Surprised and shocked I sink to the ground.
What I really caught was something I have never seen.
Is this where broken hearts go or is this just some sick routine?
I try to piece them together as best as I can.
And most of them go back to the place where they first began.
YOU ARE READING
Their is still debris
Short StoryMany people have hard times in their life but their is always something after the hard times or something people feel during those times. (So sorry for the cheesy bad summary.)
