tasked
their pieces on the ground
scattered
all over the carpet
i marvel at their broken facade
it speaks to me
tasked
i pick their pieces
my frail fingers hold them gently
i hold them against the sun
beautiful
the only word to describe them
tasked
i try to glue them with my tears
i hold them against their broken face
against their broken heart
and i wither when they won't stay
tasked
i always do this
i fix the broken
i hold their pieces
i ignore the pain
but i won't look in the mirror
there lies my truth
my image reflects their's
my broken pieces lay on the carpet
i try to match them to Their cracks
and i end up more broken than i was
tasked
will someone ever do the same for me?

little tiny holes
my body full of them
a piece of myself someone took
give
is all know
they keep it
or they throw it away
but still i feel nothing
empty is all
i cry but feel nothing
run over
beaten down
walked all over
still i say nothing
i can't reach out
i'm drowning in my thoughts
getting up feels like a task
i put a face up
they think i'm fine
i learned to be this way
tired
maybe this should come to an end...
post a picture
laugh at the tv
sing a song
but the smile doen't reach the eyes
maybe i'm broken
i'm creating my problems
i'm craving attention
i don't even now anymore
i hold  on for others
is that a life worth living?...

Sleep
       Sleep
             Sleep
maybe then i won't feel
maybe then it won't hurt
maybe then everything will STOP