Poetry
Comments 6

All Of The Pieces

I’m far too good at handing over pieces of myself

and it’s a wonder that there’s any of me left to give.

Each time, I held my heart with both hands.

Shattered it with a white knuckle grip

and offered out the fragments like bon-bons,

melting and sticky in my palm.

I should have kept them closer,

away from those who saw only wrappers

and threw them aside without thought.

Others tucked them into corners

or placed them on shelves out of sight

out of mind.

No one realised I’d become a jigsaw.

Not until you.


Daily Prompt: Delivery

This entry was posted in: Poetry

by

Carol Forrester is a writer trying to be a better one. She’s currently working on a poetry collection 'It's All In The Blood'. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon. More recently her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.

6 Comments

  1. Wow – I love this.
    It has echoes of one I showcased on my blog a few days ago – Poem for Everyone, written by John T. Wood, but the positive note at the end of yours is a triumph.

  2. Reblogged this on Making it write and commented:
    Only four days after posting John T Wood’s ‘Poem for Everyone’ I’ve stumbled on another rare poetic treat. Written by Carol J. Forrester, it contains echoes of Wood’s poem – purely by chance, since Carol wasn’t aware of its existence until today – but tells a different story.

  3. And you find out too late the toll giving all those pieces away takes on you… Really could identify with this. Well written.

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