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first shard
Sometime we will look back on this
And you will remember how you kissed
Every soiled scrap of me as you found it
And I will remember your warm lips
Meeting my chilled, rotted flesh.
We will both be lying
But I want this anyway.

second shard
Come back to me when I am whole.

third shard
Darling, when something falls to pieces it shatters
But before you think me glass
Remember I will never be translucent.

fourth shard
My soul is drifting in my own kingdom
In the banks where the sun goes to die
When stillness corrodes the earth,
I stand, waiting, arms outstretched
In the exact way that makes you want to let me go.

fifth shard
I am screaming through the hidden whites of eyes
And open mouths and hollow cheeks.

sixth shard
I don’t think you’ve ever considered
Something more was broken with me,
Unoriginal soul that you are.

seventh shard
It’s so cold here
And there are things crawling in the walls
Feeding on my blood, little creatures
With brown dog eyes and curled claws that once lived as hands
And you are one of them—
Come back.

eighth shard
We both knew I was never quite whole
even before.

ninth shard
If corpses can dream,
With their consciousness scattered,
Wandering in every way but physical,
You are in my mind, heart, and soul
Separately.

tenth shard
I am awaiting soft hands
Until you realize
Resurrection is an act only for yourself
And can’t put fingertip to flesh.

eleventh shard
You are no more torn apart than I am.

twelfth shard
Come back to me
When you have something within you
Not subject to the whimsy of a butcher knife
Because I’m sure someone far before me
Unraveled your organs.
Perfection is fragile by definition, darling
So come back to me
When you can look me in the eye to say
The chambers of your heart remain untouched.

thirteenth shard
Iris, darling, pick up the pieces.

fourteenth shard
Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconpoetoffire:

Author's Comments

Osiris may be dead, ripped apart, and scattered, but he still hurts you, doesn't he?

*Critique requested, although I don't have a sub right now so I can't make it all formal*

Comments


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:iconnephthis:
I have no critique, this is very good. Openly raw. Fabulous.

--
I am all that is left of the creature that was once me.
:iconalterego1629:
Wow, you can write a good piece of literature. :D This really captured my attention, with each shard drawing me in more. Stellar. :)

--
¥~*I do not like the feeling that I am feeling while I'm feeling it
and when I'm done feeling it for the moment I won't feel wrong for feeling it,but right now I feel it and it feels wrong.*~¥ - (E.Soileau)
:iconyourlocalpoet:
It's an interesting idea but I would have to say it's rather Humanized. However, there are a few interesting metaphors particularly in the latter sections.

--
"As a computer I find your faith in technology amusing."

"I love a battle of wits almost as much as I love clashing blades."
:iconpoetoffire:
Just curious--what do you mean by Humanized?

--
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. ~Richard Wright
:iconyourlocalpoet:
Like you've made it as though a human were speaking, not a god.

--
"As a computer I find your faith in technology amusing."

"I love a battle of wits almost as much as I love clashing blades."
:iconbetweenthepages:
i did a project on him once, his junk was never found
:iconmode-de-vie:
Darling, when something falls to pieces it shatters
But before you think me glass
Remember I will never be translucent.


These lines are wonderful. They really spoke to me. :heart: Beautiful image.

--
Founder of =Inked-Page | Staff for *100ThemesChallenge, *ProsePlease | Lit Critic at *devCRIT
:iconximcharmedx:
way to break it up into events without stating them out right. i like it. very nice job!

--
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back!

Confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not yet understood. -Henry Miller

"She's like a sweet summer, a sweet summer day; I can't let it, can't let it go to waste."

Details

April 27
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