There are pieces of me everywhere.
Whirling around nothing like chaff in the wind.
They scatter to the night stars, then fall to wells dug deep beneath the earth.
They nestle in the clouds, but fall down with the rain, saturated with tears of the sky.
They shudder in the shadows, and shuffle from the light.
They hide beneath my bed, stalking me at night.
They fall around me like confetti, but quickly turn to ashes.
They are waiting here to carry me when my world crashes.