I have a poetic bone in my body, I swear; I've seemed to misplace it
I'll search inside the cabinets, within the threads of my bedsheets
maybe you've withheld it in your eyes
breaking it with your icy glare,
maybe you enjoyed hearing it crack and shatter into pieces, 
was the dissonance music to your ears?
i thought i saw it the other day, chasing the hand you walked out on, 
funny how it could've escaped my grasp
when I once held it so close like the proverbial hand of cards,
a treasured piece of myself.
I can hear it now, it reverberating through the forest like the drumbeat of your heart.
Toying with me, a little girl attached to the strings of a puppeteer
suspending itself among the wind chimes that whisper melodies to the wind
it hangs there, taunting me with gut wrenching lullabies, torturing my every-waking moment
with the unmistakeable clinging of its own remnants.
I don't know if it'll ever return to me; do i even want it to?