Small Parts

I think it might be in the little words

encoded in all my diaries somewhere

I think if I could just focus

I’d find the pieces in the pages

to my narrative that has

no page numbers

There is no order to the pages

or the feelings in them

I read fragments, small parts,

of a broken story

except for one common thread

in all the pieces–

the constant reaching

for a self.

One thought on “Small Parts


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