The little ones

You watch the things left behind with all of its broken pieces that lay on the floor trying to find their way back to an old life that will never be the same. I watched a 3 year old experience loss before ever experiencing life’s order of things. Talking to him on an owl stool that he bought her telling him about her day. I watched a little girl be put between anger and watch every person that she sat with , fall off the ledge of her life one by one. Pieces of loss stacked in piles all around the corners of a new existence. This has been my greatest separation from him. The beautiful story of her he created into my life, crumbling into dust . Life will never be the same.

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