An easy explanation

Part to whole

Less of a whole

Just filled with holes

Filled with parts that don’t fit.


What part am I

If I’m not even whole?

What part is missing?

I ask like I don’t already know


“I am a sum of my parts”

Is an easy explanation

But what if the holes

Outnumber the parts?


Something is missing from me -

Parts .

Irreplaceable for I don’t know

which parts fit in the


But I know I lost them a long time ago,

Or maybe they slowly faded.

Maybe I never had them to begin with.


I am a hole.


Pulling scrap parts deeper

As they fall right through me

But my persistence is delusion is relentless

For fear of being empty.


This poem is about: 


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