You divorced the earth. Now you believe life is simple. You walk too quickly with little care for the journey or destination, feeling little in turn. So when you knock past the mirrors, the clocks, life, on your way to the next thing. You do not ask where the shattered fragments go. To you fragments are just fragments. Furnishings are just furnishings. The earth is just earth, objects have no minds in their hearts, hello is a rather large waste of time, and not much matters very much at all. Perhaps it is because you are not very much at all right now. Something with far less gravity than a fragment. A speckling of nothing in particular. Under threat of floating off. Into an earthless, moonless sky. (I'm not 50% happy with this one so I may delete it later, I'm not sure yet)