Breakup

Pen in my

Hand as ink

Drips down my

Down my skin

First fable

Not at least

Wrote in part

By him

To call it

Alluring

Would not be

The truth

Was ode to

The lessons
I’ve learnt from

My youth:I crept out

The window the

Night that
You left
Clasped

Armies of paper

Curled up by

Our bed I threw them

Like dreams scattered

Over the

Floor

How you might

If your dream

Was not such

Anymore
They enclosed

My presence

Like deep shards

Of glass
Overt

As all that is

Cast back in

The past
A sculpture

Dependent

On human

Perception
To show how

Few facts

Now concern our

Discretion
I sat a
Composer

Who became

Their art
Sweet canvas

So rare

Because it could

Restart
To scrunch up

That paper

And stack each
Again
Just shows

How transition

Can help us

Each mend
Months from

That night of

The stars

And I
I’ve learned

To achieve

With just one

Pair of eyes
This story
I share

For those paper

Scraps taught
You must

Accept change

To have all that
You sought