The pile of discarded "me" grows daily.
The bits and pieces I've removed along the way.
The parts of me that decayed and fell away of their own accord.

The things that seemed important at the time.
The people that shaped and defined me.
The positions I filled.

Maybe you used to know me.
Maybe you used to be important to me.
Maybe I used to be important to you.

Now I'm waiting for you to be finished with me.
Waiting for you to cut me off of you, and add me to your pile.
Waiting for the Blade.

(2000, Mel Grubb II)

Last updated 10/05/01 Site contents Copyright © 1999-2001 Mel Grubb II