All that remains...

Words. That's all I seem to have left. My serious entanglements are unknotted, my casual ties—frayed. All that remains are words, phrases, half-truths, partial lies, stories untold, a cacophony of letters jostling in and out of order, demanding my attention as I try and take stock of a shattered life. 

Lives are meant to be shattered. Risks are to be taken. A safe life is not the life worth living. If you're lucky, your life will be shattered too. 

The tenuous, yet very sincere, bonds we form obviously shape us. Many like to opine about this, but we often fail to realise the lesson we should take from basic chemistry. Hydrogen doesn't stop being hydrogen simply because it's currently hooking up with oxygen. Fundamentally we are unchanged by ties we form and if we are truly, truly, fortunate in life, we will be reminded of this a few times. 

So as I look around, alone, tatters of one life beside and behind me, with merely words to guide me, I choose some of my favourites, "I'm nobody. Who are you? / Are you nobody too?"

Words. I'm in good company finally.