Chipping


I don’t

Mind goodbyes

Or explosions

Or even

The shattering

Impact of

The discovery

Of another

What disquiets

My little

World is

The constant

Chipping away

Of the

Hammer at

My heart

I’d rather

It strike

The final

Blow sending

Me to

Shards than

Trying to

Sculpt me

Into something

I’m not