Fragmented: A poem

My nephew with a rather potent piece of poetry.

Brett Milam

This piece is a good eighteen months in the making and perhaps, it is only the beginning of what will be a slew of poems meant as cathartic. Nevertheless, much like the namesake of this poem, I’m a fan of fragmented, disjointed, somewhat ambiguous and vague minimalistic poetry. Hence, then, the style of this poem isn’t merely just a thematic choice befitting the content itself, but a style choice in itself.

Fragmented

I gave myself to you fully

with the warning of

fragility.

And piece by piece,

you scattered me

until I was a nothingness.

You left me alone

with these jaded edges

of regret, longing.

Your words were

like hollow-point

bullets and

you had taken

my guard.

I ached for

one last kiss,

one last touch,

and

one last look

that meant you

ached too.

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