Everything that is me has a bit of you.
– Zoya Negi
“People are all we’ve got.”
Words my sister said to me at the dinner table.
A little box inside my brain,
with tiny trinkets of my soul that remain.
A piece of glass from the vase you broke,
scarred with the wounds you poked.
Your scent still lingers within the scarf you gave me,
I don’t think my breaths will ever be free.
If I could have your hand again,
I would not hold it within.
I’d beg for you to choke me with dandelion petals so frail,
turn me deaf to the screams that make my heart wail.
My dear beloved, I implore of you,
do not hold my faults against me.
I am what they call a detached soul,
roaming the streets without a single shred of identity.
One who bears the unfortunate fate,
of loving my fragmented soul,
can never truly see me,
without knowing you whole.
What was mine-
is what you left,
on my nightstand
and in my flesh.