pick through the rubble
look for the bits
worth keeping
a memory here
there a memento
are those the same thing?
muscle memory takes over
takes control
until the fibers
strained like spaghetti
in a colander
collapse, useless and quivering
look in the cup you made
of your hands
and drink the past
Words and Feathers 
Love that last stanza. It’s a poem on its own. Beautiful images. I think my nerves are spaghetti tonight, but I’m not sure there’s a colander! 😉
Ha ha. Thanks very much. I like the last stanza too.
This piece is especially well written. We sometimes forget that we have a hand in how our lives are shaped. Wonderful!
Thanks!