Fragments
I am fragments.
Like tattered rags on empty street.
Like broken glass on my feet.
Like shattered lives.
Like waving wheat.
I am fragments.
If I –
- Yes?
If I –
- Fall….
Yes, if I fall, will I break?
- Like tears, or cake?
Yes, we are fragments.
Will you see me if I smile?
- Because I’m different than you.
Or laugh in a silent moment.
- And whisper, “I know you.” For me, and not in spite of me.
Am I invisible to you?
- Michael, you are fragile, like butterfly wings.
Am I alone when I cry?
- You are not alone.
Am I alone when I die?
- Never. Never.
Fragments.
Fragments.
Fragments.
Fragments.
Fragments.
Fragments.
Fragments.
