Life is more than who we are
And yet we are all pawns in
Someone else's game.
And in this game I have lost.
Thoughts of you linger.
Remnants of you are weaved
Through me.
And ever so slowly...
The threads are unraveling,
Taking along with them the
Stitches of who I am after you.
And although I am but a patchwork
of different lifetimes lived,
Once spread out I am a
Thing of beauty.
