everything is so fragile.
you and i, whether we're aware of it or not, or even realize the extent of it,
we're as fragile as a sheet of glass.
one wrong move or touch and we'll shatter into a million different pieces that can't be placed back together with a simple,
"i'm sorry".
sometimes those pieces can be glued back together if someone says the right thing, and even then it's only a matter of time before we break again.
they'll never fit back together quite right, there's always going to be a stray fragment left or an edge that's a little too rough that results in someone getting hurt.
it'll be a bit different and it'll take a while to adapt to that change of not being completely right, but you'll get there one day.
i think by now at least all my pieces are a little rough around the edges.
i've even gotten hurt myself trying to pick all my pieces back up, and i've thought "how messed up is that? i'm trying to help myself yet i got cut? what sense does that make?"
i've always had that comparison in my head to glass and fragility, and how i seem to always break after one wrong move.
the past few years it seems as if all i've done is break and i haven't had time to fix myself so by now my glass shards have been reduced to sand.
i might give up.
nothing i do or say will fix this.
i'm nothing but a bunch of shards asking for help.
can someone help this pile of shards?
i didn't think so.
YOU ARE READING
Behind My Eyes.
Poetrycome pick my mind and stay awhile, make yourself comfortable. it's awfully lonely in here. - inside this book, you'll find five distinct parts: simply me, which tells you almost everything you need to know about me. you, which tells you...
