Am I greater than the sum of the hearts
I have broken? Of each, I have retained
A shard just under my skin, to
Ensure I never forget.

There is something of each in
The words I use, or the things I do,
Or the lenses through which I see the world;
Heirlooms with which I cannot part,
No matter how unwelcome are the memories
Their sparks reignite.

In pursuit of justice, of balance,
I hurt myself long after the original pain
Is forgotten, as if it will somehow erase
My transgressions from the past.
It changes nothing, save my ability to
Be a good presence in the present.

Some days, I feel empty, as though
Nothing of me is actually living
Through this. My component parts are
Scattered throughout my possible pasts,
Eyes wild, hunting desperately for
The point at which I went wrong,
The moment at which the softness of love
Sharpened to a point.

Life happens while I am looking the other way:
Friends move on, lovers drift away,
And I am left with yet more fragments
Of love once enjoyed but never
Fully appreciated.

Perhaps this is the cycle I need to break;
The gradual replacement of myself with
Memories of others and how I hurt them.

Somewhere deep inside, there is still
The kernel of me, the very essence
That even I cannot destroy or escape.
Now I need to find all of the pieces
I left behind, reassemble myself, become
A force for good at last.

07/01/2016

Posted on 08/21/2016
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince