I wonder sometimes where my last piece will fall.
Surely my essence, my soul, my love, my heart is not contained in a fist-sized little organ beating beneath my chest. If it was, I would already be gone. But I wonder, on drives to work, sitting alone on my couch on Saturday mornings drinking coffee, in my shower some days, I wonder where the last piece will end up.
It’s full circle.
It’s giving and giving and being pieces of what everyone else needs and spreading sometimes so thin that there’s nothing left to give myself.
An emptiness so vast that it takes only guilt to bring me back. Guilt because I know my life, in comparison to others..is good. These are thoughts that are so difficult to admit, so raw, so unfiltered that it takes my breath.
I wonder how many pieces of me have helped to fill others, have lead to that moment of laughter where things have turned around for someone else. I wonder if I have made a difference in anyone’s life. I wonder if I’ve inspired. I wonder if I have simply just existed. I wonder when the last piece will fall, I wonder sometimes how long I have on this earth, because I have cheated death so often and in so many ways.
It was a year ago that my life changed again, after being struck by his truck and although at the time I viewed it as an accident, it has turned into an act of violence against me, because the person responsible was never held accountable.
I lost a few pieces of my soul, my love… there on the side of the road. I wonder how my pieces will scatter.
I wonder if it will be like a dandelion blown into the wind, small bits of a larger pixel, only making sense when they’ve been reunited in the end.
I wonder why.
I wonder why I feel like pieces, a twisted bread crumb trail.