i watched his birth.

first there was the bones,
then the muscles
and eventually skin, and breath
and chemical compounds
that made the body alive.

and at one point, it was time
for him to find a soul.
to develop that part of human existence.
to develop a mind
and a heart
beliefs

but i've learned that just like
bones and muscles can crack
chemical compounds can evaporate
and the man no longer
exist at all.

i watched his death.

first there was a crack,
it happened for the first time a little bit ago.
it was right across his face.

each crack was perfectly
in line across his fragile skin.
it made a map across the bridge of his nose
and across his cheeks.
it showed me the life that he lived.

his eyes glazed over and his
mouth would no longer open
and yet it was the first time
i saw who he was more than
bones, muscles, skin
and chemical compounds.

the map showed all the places
he went and the obstacles in
developing his soul and
mind and heart and beliefs.

and it's not that it didn't exist
it was just built in pieces …
that never quite fit right together
that never were given smooth edges
and never were completed.

like a mosaic
beautiful but pieced together loosely
the sketch, the outline of a bigger picture
although the pieces on their own
just junk.

but nothing was even attached
to his body. not his beliefs
or his soul
or his heart.

therefore everything could
bring him down
and everything could make the
pieces scatter

all it took for him was the winds of a storm to blow.

the pieces of the mosaic
splatter.
scatter.
break.

the chards of glass cut my feet
and it looks like the bottle of alcohol
that created the chemical compounds of his body.
the only glue that was possibly
between the belief tiles
stuck to his heart.

so much for his happy ending.