You think you are broken,
You think you are shattered,
You think nobody will love you for you.
So you put on a mask,
A mask to replace the real you.
And you think they could only ever love the mask.
Well here's where I stop you.
You may be broken,
You may be shattered,
But I will always love you for you.
You may wear the mask,
Build it up further,
Or break it down a little.
But all the same, I can,
I will see the real you.
And if you will let me, I will pick you up.
I will pick up all the broken pieces.
The pieces that belong to you.
I may need help, but in the end,
I will rebuild you.
Not the mask, but the real you.
The one that will always be loved.
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This piece may be dedicated to one person, but is meant for many. Many who I know, and don't know, that build a mask, a wall if you wish, to hide themselves. They hide themselves hoping to be liked, thinking that if they build a mask or a wall they can pick up their own pieces, put themselves back together; but in reality, they need help. They need someone to help them pick up their pieces, to pick them up. But they won't be the same. Because once you crumple up a paper, that paper can never be perfect again.
YOU ARE READING
~My Thoughts~
Non-FictionThis is just somewhere I write things. I start thinking and then I start writing. It might be sad, it might be happy, or it it could be infuriating. A little birdy told me to open up a bit. So I will. To you.
