Mosaic

About being broken and picking up the pieces

I stand in front of you as a broken man. My chest split open exposing my heart. This pain I feel is like being hit by a Mac truck, and then being picked up just to be hit by it again. Pieces of my heart and soul litter the ground. Like glass they shimmer from a fading light. The fading light of love pulling away. As the light disappears, I am left in darkness. On my knees broken, in agony, alone in darkness.

 

Looking around I see pieces that have their own glow to them. Some are blue, some are red, purple, green, yellow. They lightly flicker like a candle with a dying flame. Picking up pieces and admiring their comforting light. Taking the pieces and putting them together make there light stronger. I begin to carefully put them together like puzzle pieces.

 

I feel my life slowly fade away. As piece by piece my mosaic of different colors start to take shape. It seems familiar to me, like I’ve seen this before. The more I add, the more I recognize what I am creating. It is me… The different colors and shapes of the pieces are creating me. As the darkness enters the hole in my chest I understand. I must die so the mosaic I created can live. Adding the final pieces, the light is almost blinding. I continue to fade away, this is it, this the part of me that can’t live anymore. 

Author's Note

Not quite finish... I feel it needs more...

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

The lyrical sense of self within the wording broadens the readers need to get to the end and realise what the writer is trying to realise himself, well done, good read.

[Kris]

Thank you for your review!