A favorite writing pencil thrown at a wall,
My heart left shattered against that wall that I threw my pencil at
I was not ever throwing a pencil at all,
But my frozen and stiff heart flying through the air,
Soaring towards the gray painted, unmoving wall.
The cherished pencil stumbles towards the carpeted ground,
Snapping in half from the impact, it lies dead on the ground,
Just like how my heart too lay broken, impossible to fix
No more mending could be done to save me this time.
I cry, not from a silly broken pencil,
Instead from the impermanence of things,
And yet how permanent the cloud looming over me is
I then pick up the pieces of the pencil,
Trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces of my heart,
And put them together.
My room not belonging to me as a place of peace nor protection,
My door required to be kept open
No longer protecting me from the yelling and hurtful words,
My steps lead me to the bathroom,
My hand reaches out to turn to lock in a swift motion the minute I pass the door,
And I let it out,
Breaking just another time.
I lie to myself,
I lie that this will be the last time
I lie that I am okay,
I lie that it is all my fault.
Because there is nothing I can do,
No one to hold me and just tell me that it is going to be all right
It is just me and my tears,
And we all know how much easier it is lying to ourselves when we are alone
Than accepting the truth we have been running from,
Since the first time our heart was shattered,
And we were left all alone.
I am an afraid coward, okay?
When I hurt inside my body shakes,
And my heart prepares to run.
I am afraid that I will never find happiness or love,
Afraid that I will never be good enough,
Nor be it possible of following my dreams.
Am I too broken to be fixed and put back together?
I am afraid of the uncertainty,
Maybe after all it is better to be sad than hopeful and brimming with joy
I am afraid because I just do not know-
How to pick up the pieces,
And become whole again.
