Carefully she gathers up the bits and pieces
that are scattered around her in the dust.
Pieces of who she used to be,
that wouldn't fit into the box
he tried to fit her into.
Pieces she’s hidden away for so long
in hopes of saving them from pain,
and some she hasn’t seen for so many years
she hardly recognizes them herself.
She braces herself against the walls,
to keep them from closing in around her
and sucks in the suffocating air.
With trembling fingers she fumbles
in the ever-darkening room,
trying to make the pieces fit together
the way they used to be, 
before it’s too late 
and there is nothing left of her
to recognize in the mirror. 


may 2004
©Janet Reid



Awarded by Flowing Quills ~ May 26, 2004






Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ Feb 14, 2005