Thrown Away

I am broken
Just a sliver of what I used to be
Not used to missing you
Still.
After months,
You don't think of me
And it breaks me.
Every morning...
by the time I've hit the closet
I've thought of you.
Throughout the day
I think of you.
It is my hard place.
I can't get over it
Or around it.
I must go through it.
Whether it kills me
or simply maims me
remains to be seen.
But battered, bruised,
and yes, broken
I trod on.
Weary,
Stumbling,
Lost,
Until I find
a replacement
for you.