Young Writers Society

Ceiling’s cracked
I stare at it,
comparing it to
the fissure in my heart.

I should be mad at you.
But I’m not, I can’t,
I’m just missing
That little piece of me
I gave to you.

It’s small, but important,
That piece of me.
Because it’s the piece
That helps me smile
And laugh, even
In the hardest places.

I fell,
Too deep, too fast.
I wonder if I’m hurting
Worse than you,
Wonder if I care
More than you.

I said I’d stand by you,
But I’m wondering
If maybe, it’s too much
And I can’t hold you up
If I don’t have that
Piece of me
I’ve given you.

I want it back.
I need it back.
But you’ve taken it,
Hidden it someplace I can’t reach,
And I know,
I’m not getting it back.