Breaking Bread, poetry by Maggie Watson at Spillwords.com

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Breaking Bread

Maggie Watson·November 19, 2025

Poetry English

·12 Comments·1 min read·55

Breaking Bread

written by: Maggie Watson

In the breaking of bread, all that is left behind
are crumbs.
From the crumbs, we must try to take something good.
Yesteryear bears no resemblance to my history.
Only fragments of who I once was.
Those pieces that no longer belong to me.
I own my story in its entirety.
No part of it will I deny.
Within the chapters, you will find versions of me you
do not recognise.
You will wonder how I survived to write these lines.
I often wonder too.
From the crumbs and the eggshells, I walked on every day,
I constructed the life I have today.
My feet still bleed, and countless tears I have shed.
In the breaking of the bread, I learned that sometimes.
broken things you will never fix, no matter how hard you try,
but hope will always keep you alive.

About
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Maggie Watson

AUGUST 2025 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com

Maggie was born in Cape Town, South Africa. She now lives in Scotland. She has CFS which is a very debilitating/unpredictable illness. She began writing in 2020 at the start of the Pandemic. At that point, she had no idea it would play such a huge part in her life as it does now! In 2021 she self-published her first collection of poetry and has since self-published three others. Her writing is now much more diverse than when she began. Maggie draws a lot on her life experiences when writing, so her poems can be raw. But she feels that makes her work more relatable to the reader. Maggie is also a volunteer at Barnardo's in UK. She enjoys walks in nature and solo travel.

Jim Bartlett

After a long career tinkering in telecommunications, Jim Bartlett switched to tinkering with writing fiction, both requiring a stretch of the imagination. In the course of putting his fingers to the keyboard, he's been fortunate to have quite a number of his stories featured both in print and online in several wonderful publications, including a story selected for "The Best of Fiction on the Web, 1996 – 2017" anthology. While mentally he strolls along a warm California beach with his wife and golden retriever (shhh, she doesn't know she's a dog), physically they reside on a special little island in the Pacific Northwest.

Reaper by Sharon Frame Gay

As an orphaned son of an orphan, I always see the glass as half empty. I picture the water murky and lukewarm, a waterline etched below the rim. Maybe with an ash or two floating at the bottom, because that’s what I do for a living. I deal with ashes. The remains of the deceased. No matter how those who pass away see their glass, meager or full, they eventually end up in a satchel carried on my shoulder.
My business card reads “Morton Stark Transport.” I’m called upon to disperse the ashes of the dearly departed and honor their final wishes. People hire me to escort the remains throughout the world ...

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