A Million Pieces

A million pieces rested on my soul. The shimmer of them gleamed in the sunlight. I see the black trees stretch out into the infinite sky. Provoking the clouds as they reach up above into that gray emptiness. I see each piece, yet I don't see just one. They are all blended together. Chained to one another, and blurred into the same piece. I call upon them to separate and redeem themselves to my heart. But I couldn't gather the courage to speak out agaisnt them. I see them and feel them. They taunt me as they are infinitely chained together. Stronger than any of my words. Always on the verge of tears. The angry words spill from my mouth with such rashness. I continue to emmulate the one thing I have feared for so long. No, I can't carry on. The weight of the million pieces lay heavily upon me. I want to breath. To let go. To see more. To live more. The black trees shudder in the wind. I hear their mournfull songs. As if they knew what would become of me. Dancing to a song I can't hear, shuddering and whispering old languages of foreign times. I see the glimmer of sun peeking through the clouds. In a million little pieces. A million pieces of leaves, scattered on the ground. A million pieces of my life scattered over many states. A million pieces of perfection discarded onto me, onto my life. I see it all. The beauty of each morning, as the sun shines through my window. The million pieces of sun crashing through my half-drawn shades. The million pieces of ideas, thoughts, words left unspoken. The million pieces of love I see each day. A million pieces of hate also drowning in the streets. They fall from the sky. Angry and sad. Remorseful, like hot tears in the sun. It's all pieces. Each little piece creating my life. Establishing memories and creating new dilemnas. I can't make the choices, yet. I thought I knew what I wanted. That each piece fell into my puzzle the right way. But they haven't fallen into the spaces that I had made for them. Things have shattered when they weren't supposed to break, things have taken root when I have not sowed any seeds, and things that were once constant are no longer reliable. A union, that was meant to be taken seriously was not. It broke into a million pieces. Each facet of that, reminding me of my failures, of my mistakes, of my humaness. I am not perfect. I have cried over those million pieces. A million tears. One for each piece. And I have laughed for each, also. I will look back at the mess that I have made, and smile. It's what I do. I mess things up. I break things. I'm clumsy. I trip and I fall. I get back up. And I fall again.

It's me.

Those million pieces.

They are all the essence of me.

And who I have become.

And who I will be.

Those grains of sand on my palm. That earthy grain. The smell of sea salt, and waves and simmering sunshine. The dirt on my face. The mossy grass filled with water. The rustling trees that shudder in the cold winds. The enraged teardrops of unhappy clouds. That is me. I am the earth. I came from it, and to it I shall return.

In a million pieces.