He lies in his rickety bed, shaking from the thought of it,
Of the memory that constantly haunts him;
The moment it ended.
Arriving so quickly and swiftly, he almost missed it.
It almost slid right by him.
He caught the moment right before it’s end
He held onto it with all his strength; he wanted to examine it,
Find its root, its core, its purpose.
Digging deep, he arrived at it.
Staring, with wonder,
Amazement,
Confusion.
“How could this be?” he said.
“How did it come to this?” he speculated.
As he stared at his reflection, he realized what he had done.
He gathered himself for a moment and sighed.
He took this precious object and used it.
Used it to the tenth degree
And then, used it some more.
He took no care of the now valuable object.
Swinging it around, letting it follow him in the dust.
That’s what he had done;
Broke his toy.
Now he is barricaded by this experience,
Not knowing if he’ll ever fully recover.
Pushing something so precious away
Pushing it so far it broke, into a thousand tiny pieces laid out on the floor.
This is an image he will never escape, never fully grasp.
A tiny broken heart, spread out on his floor.