bits of me

i linger
and listen
to the sound
of the ticking
bits of me
crumble away
form dust at my feet
seconds to minutes
minutes to hours
hours to days
soon there
will be
but a shell
of the woman
you once knew
and if i see you
i will not move
i will not breathe
for if i do
i will tremble
nothing left
to hold me
bits of me
on the floor


About Susan Warren Utley

Susan Warren Utley is a wife and mother living and writing in the shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Her stories are inspired by the unexpected twists and turns of real life and by her muse, a feisty Jack Russell Terrier who occasionally answers to the name of Lucy. View all posts by Susan Warren Utley

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