Pieces of Me

I, of all people, should understand the transient nature of things.

Abrupt endings. Goodbyes or lack thereof.

Fragile invisible strings that connect.

I should be used to it now.

Yet I'm not.



Everytime you walk away, you runaway, you take away a piece of me with you.

Sometimes I feel like many little pieces of me are scattered all over.

But maybe that's better, than being completely whole yet cold.