Pieces Of Me

Pieces Of Me

Parts and pieces,
never the whole.
Parts and pieces,
a ravenous hole.
A tilt of the head,
and narrowing eyes.
Only too well
how the mirror does lie.
Hollow and shadow
turned inside out.
Curving around
the darkening doubt.
The flesh torn and angry
expands much too soon.
Leaving room for self-loathing;
an empty, Cimmerian gloom.
The fragmented memories
behind silent eyes.
The departure of childhood
and bittersweet goodbyes.

Angela Minard 2007