I don’t think you can break what was already broken.
The pieces aren’t jagged anymore, they don’t puncture me from the inside, I’ve been fine for a long time.
If the pieces aren’t bound together right away, they grow back gnarled and frayed. I grew back long ago, a sharper angle, more of a kaleidoscope.
The pieces fall and gather in colors and waves, it’s lovely but it’s still broken. Still not quite right in some way.
I want to say my heart is broken; that I’m shattered on the floor. But I don’t feel things like that anymore. I haven’t felt much from these old broken pieces that you left for me. I try to cry but there is nothing there to see.
I’ll give you the credit where it is due. The colors were torn from me by you. I haven’t had Summer since 2 Winters ago. The seasons don’t turn, and you ought to know.
This stretch was just another turn of the Moon, I learned long ago that this was all I could expect from you. Moving south the seasons don’t need to change.
Anywhere you are always stays the same.
You will never leave. You will never change.