The cynical optimist

When we start this life

We are granted it all

One life, one body, one soul.

All of it whole

The complete package..

Why it all matters!

Now the pieces of me 

That have been chipped away

Are spread throughout the cosmos,

Who i am,

Who i was,

Who i am yet to be. 

Those broken pieces of me 

Tell my story

Create my narrative.

But is that all i am

Or am i greater than my story?