twentyfour.

1 0 0
                                    

im broken.
ive been torn into pieces.
everyone wants a different part of me.
im a different 'me' everywhere i go.
two, three, four, five pieces.
i don't know which piece i am,
or which i want to be.
maybe i hate all of them.
maybe im not any of them.
ive been torn so many times that the original piece of artwork i was can no longer be seen.
i know who i should be,
but i can't bring myself to be that person.
who i should be is not who i want to be
and it's breaking me into more pieces everyday.
too many pieces for anyone to put them all together.
too many pieces.
each one will get smaller and smaller
too small for anyone to see them at all.
and when all my pieces become too small for anyone to see,
who am I then?

writingsWhere stories live. Discover now