Pieces of the Night (or missing pieces)

In the dark of the night, in the early morning,

I’m left alone with all my fears,

and insecurities,

and doubts,

and broken promises to myself,

and all the little pieces of me that have broken off from the events of the day.

I try to pick them all up and put myself back together on my bed,

so that maybe,

between the sheets,

during the night,

I can melt back together,

into a whole me.

But I am alone and I don’t think I collected all the pieces!

I am waking up with a little more of myself missing every morning.

Eventually the missing pieces will form a hole,

A hole big enough for my heart to fall out.

Will anyone notice?

When will they notice?

Maybe if I had someone to hold,

Someone to hold me,

Then we could check each other for missing pieces,

And hold each other’s form until the dawn, when the glue will have dried…

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