Our eyes follow the piece of pottery fall eloquently from it's perfect state to the cold, bitter gravel underneath our bodies.
I pivot and turn, your fist reaches out and grasps my wrist.
Silence in between the quote marks in which your apology would fit so nicely. My eyes beg you to acknowledge, but my body remembers and dramatically jerks away.
You rip part of my heart and claim a piece of my soul.
As my footsteps fade you stay and look at the broken.
"It's okay", you think.
My footsteps are no more.
You take these chipped and imperfect parts of what used to be whole. You take what used to be and force it to fit where you desire. Forfeit is the only way you win; cheating is your battle plan.
You take parts and don't replace, you demand honesty as you plan with lying motives.
The general shape is back and resembles the bowl that fell, yet this is not what used to be.
It never will be the same and never will be whole again.
I am gone and you are there.
I have healed and I have won.
My darling I'm sorry, for your heart and your fears, but let go of my body& with it release my soul.
You hold what you wish was whole, yet clearly it's your biggest hole.
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