Here I am

on the ground

stitching up,

my open wounds

with word filled thread

patching up my injuries

with barely me bits

my soul repairing slowly

and oh so carefully

with books, and songs, and words

taking the best characteristics

of my favorite characters

as a way of healing

all my broken bits

yet there are so many

and its so hard,

but still, my soul tries

yet they are not the same

as how I used to be

that old me is gone,

fractured, shattered

by pain of the heart

pain of the emotions

and pain of the mind

to the point where only



and yet, I dust those dusty bits of my old self all over me,

inhale it deep into my lungs

as a way of hoping

no, wishing

no, dreaming

that somehow

it will all mold together, soul and all

turning me back into that

happy, loving, bubbly and free me

from the past,

before all this pain destroyed me

until then,

here I am

faking happy, loving too quickly, sad, and lonely


a shattered girl

trying to fix herself,

but failing.

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