Collage of a Broken Year
By Lore
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Moments. A year is comprised of thirty-one million, five hundred and fifty-seven thousand seconds; most of them pass without a second’s thought.
They should have been memorable.
No-one mourns the loss of a second but the fracturing of hours, days, months becomes issue.
Fleeting images, corrupted moments.
All that remains.
In writing, a version of the truth exists, the book heavy and laden with emotions locked away.
In the mind, nought but a collage of a broken year.
Vignettes intense and emotional; shards of joy and shame. Reflections like seven year’s bad luck return slivers of my past.
Reminders of the times surround me; flashbacks to times forgotten ambush occasionally.
The present surrounds me, pleasant, hopeful;
No rewinds, no repeats.
The path once walked crumbled; a new direction paved.
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