Yesterday's Promise

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

Complicated

Delicate

Subtle

Elusive

I study the painful gibberish

Longing to fit them into something real

Something whole

But seeing only how each shard reflects

The dark place where she will never be again.