There are things that get left behind when something breaks
unseen when the shards get thrown out
though,
when glued back together,
there’s this line of almost fitting
but not quite.
It’s not the fidgeting fingers’ fault,
what’s puzzled back together is missing pieces
too tiny even for a child’s hand to grasp.
Swallowed swiftly, the crash still ringing in the air.
Unknown,
long-gone
sucked up by the last one passing
laying on lungs like a furry thing in hiding.
Maybe you are carrying it,
that
tiny little accident
wrapping itself around your neck from the inside
like a mink scarf
strangling
every time the guilt bubbles up beneath your throat.
Keeping it inside,
trapped,
like a small animal with its nest in your chest.
Maybe a firm hand could help you cough it up?
Mouth spread wide with reddening edges,
whilst they search for what is holding you
captive.
Between teeth and tired eyes, calling it by name and size
so tell me what you fear more,
their echo, or its answer.