Poetry

Anything Else

“Pieces of me died,
little by little,
over the years.
Little bits
of my youth, here.
Shards of my
innocence, there.”

Pieces of me died, little by little, over the years. Little bits of my youth here. Shards of my innocence there. All those fragments of my soul were cast out into the world with a bandage that looked like peaches and cream skin. But if you counted all those freckles and scars, you’d see the reflection of all those pieces that died over the years. Would you still think I’m anything other than a walking corpse?

© Sarah Doughty

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24 thoughts on “Anything Else”

  1. Sometimes, people only see what they want to see of us, our more positive sides, and, because we feared rejection from the world, we might all eventually start to, disown the more negative emotions that we have (sadness, anger, sorrow, disgust, etc., etc., etc.), and we end up, losing sight of who we are, because, we are, a SUM of ALL our experiences and emotions, and the sum of the parts here, is greater than the whole!

    Liked by 1 person

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