Inside the blue-gray bits of fragile, broken shell
Lies the Empty Space of something hatched
But where did it go?
What was it?
Is it safe?
Edges make jagged points too delicate to be taken seriously
Touching them would only crack them further
And they are cracked enough
Like sad little arms reaching up and out
Wishing those they carried would return to fill the Loneliness
But there is only me,
On the outside peering in
Wishing I could help ease their suffering
But then I think
These are merely shells…
What in me
Sees Such Things?