She held all the pieces.
For years and years, she held them all
And she promised that they somehow fit together.
At first, with fear’s reluctance
I gave them stingily.
But faith grew—chiseled and molded with well-intentioned cultivation
Until I couldn’t wait to hand her every scrap.
I gave her all the pieces
Trusting they were safe.
And they were… for a while.
I didn’t know that,
In the end,
The jumbled bits would scatter on the wind.
I snatch the fragments from the air
Lost jigsaw pieces dressed in my emotions
I study the painful gibberish
Longing to fit them into something real
But seeing only how each shard reflects
The dark place where she will never be again.