Buried Treasure

In my heart? . . . unspoken feelings.
In my mind? . . . words left unsaid.
In my dreams? . . . our happy endings.
In my life? . . . actions, untaken;
gestures, unmade;
thoughts, unmentioned; and
feelings I was too broken to share
. . . with anyone.

Alone here,
In the autumn of my days;
Holding tight to all I failed to do, for fear . . .
. . . of success,
. . . of love, and
. . . of peace . . .

In the shelter of that fear,
I gather the pieces;
Cobble them together,
in secret;
Bury them away,
in my heart and mind;
and then, leave them,
in safety,
and in darkness . . .

They cannot grow,
or flourish, true, but,
No one can shatter the pieces of me
if they cannot be reached;
Not if I do not share
what makes me, me,
with anyone,
ever,
again. . . . Right?

Tender, fragile pieces,
of the treasure I once was . . .
. . . quiet, secret feelings,
. . . unspoken words,
. . . happy endings
that will never be.

The pieces? 

. . . all that's left,
of a hope-filled little girl . . .

They're my buried treasure . . .
. . . and the map is all the world.

**********

That is who, or what, I am. . . broken pieces. . . buried treasure. . . a solitary piece of blue beach glass. . .

***********

 

Broken Pieces (beach glass, so, discolored)

Copyright, 2006