A Sentence to Suffer

​

how I wish

I was given more

than the scattered,

incomplete thoughts:

 

puzzle pieces

from the set:

“why did this happen?”

 

puzzle pieces

mixed, bent, and broken

dumped at my feet:

 

puzzle pieces

my fingers fumbled over

sluggish in the cold

of a world with no sun

for you were gone

 

puzzle pieces

my eyes squinted at

blinded in the darkness

of a night with no stars

for you were gone

 

a jigsaw

with pieces

you omitted

out of compassion

for my feelings;

out of self-preservation

of your character;

out of mercy

to your mind’s indecisiveness –

for some pieces were lost

even to you

 

indecisiveness –

plaguing your mind

as you paced back and forth

staring at me

a hostage

tied up

knife in your hands

contemplating

if and when

to do it

 

how it pained me,

seeing no way out,

to help steady your hand,

and push the steel

into my heart,

our eyes meeting,

as you broke the hilt,

that no one may pull it out,

and walked away,

lacking the heart

to plunge its edge

all the way through me

 

too kind to start it

too kind to finish it--

how I was forced

to grip the blade’s tip

poking out of my back

and pull every inch

of that cold metal

through my heart

wince at every jagged bump

scraping my insides – 

pieces of my heart,

sticking to the blade’s edge,

and being dragged out of me

in the shape

of the missing pieces

you failed to give me

 

and after every inch

of the sword had a turn

in hurting me –

a clang of iron 

on the floor

finally set me free

from the torment

of piecing together the truth

permitting my body

to begin its closure

of the hole

the sword

left behind

 

how my assailant was kind,

well-intentioned

and merciful

but how great

was the cost

of finding all the pieces

their mercy

left out

for a broken heart

seeks no mercy –

but the truth

as to why

it bleeds