A piece of me for the boss, a piece of me for the children, a piece of me for my husband, a piece for the house, a piece for the chores, a piece for the meals.  Where am I?  Who have I become?  Where has my identity gone?

Longing for solitude, for peace and stillness.  I dream of quiet, I dream of a small home with a front porch, where I sit and smell the salt ocean.

All the pieces I give away, I give away willingly and I'm happy to do so, but I need a piece for me.  Something to claim to grasp onto.