I used to put the feelings in jars, wrapping them with corresponding ribbons depending on the day and lining them oh so neatly onto the shelves that line my cortex and home. Never to say I wasn’t organized in one way, while others cracked and flew apart in every which direction hubris was a cheerful hand to hold as I glided in and swept up the mess, loaning out jars and advice like cookies. The back of the head always tells the truth, I had always known that the shelves were uneven and cheap, the jars themselves feeble in constitution just like their buyer and the ribbons were only for display and the whole system functionally flawed. She is gone; when the earth became somehow heavier in the loss, the shelves cracked and crumbled, the shelves loosened and lay askew, the shelves were never mine to assume. The jars came down in a fury, the force sending shards in every direction and into every part of my brain, shrieking from the direct hit yet continuing to plead ignorance to the whole **** system. She is gone; feelings used to make sense but now nothing does, nothing is how is feels nothing is what I wanted to happen and something is Here, Something was always waiting, Something has toppled my jars and shelves and left me alone on this earth to clean it all up while She has joined the Universe and now can only be reached in pictures we took on better days and the dreams that keep me awake. Something has come, Something may have gone, but Something has also changed me. Without the jars I feel more free, without the jars I am open maybe it was the jars all along that have always made me feel broken.