Broken, littered upon the floor,
how does one begin to explain?
The loss, the cloud hanging over
my mind in such a desolate space. 
The emptiness like white noise 
sounding its horn into the void.
Another swell at the floodgates as
the record of a life, so short but full,
plays its silent collection, the montage, 
a patchwork of captured life until death.

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