.
Here I am sitting on the floor
in the livingroom putting
pieces of me back together
with glue.
.
Tears fall among the chips
of my heart, broken slithers
of emotion, the arms that
held you.
.
This is a familiar rite. I
let it happen; the scissors,
the taking away of the
pieces.
.
This will never happen
again. Someone like you
leaving me scattered
and holding another
bottle of empty glue.
.
Lady A
07-15-13
11:54
.