She said
that is such an ugly
prison
you have built
around your heart.

I said
yeah
but you should see it
from inside –

I have painted
the walls
with clowns.

 

 

 

If I manage to find the pieces
we lost along the way,
having turned back now,
roaming the wastelands of our yesterdays,
would it be okay if I salvaged
the questionable parts of you,
the pieces you discarded
to rust and rot with time?

I am starting to think they fit me
better than my parts
ever did.

 

 

i have gotten good at
picking myself apart

i disassemble my body
piece by piece

i haul the walls down
shake out the gathered dust
the memories
the heartache

and after examining and cataloging
what is there
or no longer there
i try to put the pieces back
together

but i lost the directions
long ago

and inevitably there are parts
left out
left over
or just plain mishandled
and broken

there is a little bit
less of me
each time

pretty soon
i will be
just like
them