when i was distant,
you were there
when i am here,
you are

where?

scattered
the floor
getting brushed into corners
not knowing
where the pieces of you belong anymore

i think i know who i am
until the porcelain architecture of you
the sacred curvatures of your song
is put in my hands

should i glue you back together?
could i have a small piece? for keepsake
or should i just let you be safe
and let someone else
melt you down into
some other shape?

i thought if i held you,
you'd pry your wings open
and, well
fly

but dear bird,
i am not magic 
i never was to begin with 
and now i must come to terms with this

~

why do
i
break every thing
i
touch