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

Sitting desperately,


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?