Original Poem: About The Pieces

From the start, her body never even turned toward me.
Like she never really wanted to have any form of interaction between us.
“I’d like you to meet such and such.”
“Hi,” is all I can manage to get out;
I’m doing my best to read your body language.
Either nervous and timid, or she just doesn’t care.

Either way, I do my best to offer her bits of myself, willing to be put out in the open.
Maybe she’ll accept the pieces.

Instead they sit patiently on the table, and she stares.

She gets up to leave.
My head falls to one side and my eyebrows scrunch together.
I’ve never been in this situation before…
Do I just leave these here on the table for everyone to see?
Will she come back to pick them up, or is she ignoring them altogether?

I let out a small sigh as I accept the situation I’m in.

She doesn’t care about the pieces.
Why would she ever put them back together?

Months later, after my pieces have all up and gone,
A piece of me comes softly toward her.
It taps her on the shoulder.
She turns her head, and smiles with her mouth.

And she stares right back at me.
Then, from nothing,
She says it.
No expression on her face.
Just a word.


you thought something had changed?

So I let out one last sigh that feels like a final goodbye.

on “If you can’t accept a single piece of me, how can I ever offer you all of who I am?”

**Note from the author**
It’s easy to misunderstand this one. I think of a couple different situations where people would relate. It could deal with being interested in someone who isn’t, but it can also be about someone who is difficult to help. Even though we know we should keep offering the help, sometimes you wonder why you offer. You can’t force them or push them too much.
But you can at least offer something to let them know that you’re there. Who knows? Maybe it’s making a difference.

(Photo by Me)



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