my heart never seems to be where I am

coffee stains,
frayed jeans,
and never quite being what you need

have you ever wondered what it would be like to do one thing perfectly

just one thing

I've run out of beautiful metaphors to dress up the terrible things that have happened to me.

I can't make these wounds sound pretty;
and my arms sometimes forget to hold me together.
I've dropped pieces of myself along the way,
leaving a trail of hidden heart ache.

And now I can't decide if I've become a haunted house or a natural disaster.

a girl with a hollowed out chest,
all empty space and hopelessness.
carrying handfuls of apologies and half hearted explanations never spoken out loud.

desperate attempts to fill the spaces left by every shattered promise,
ribs fractured by deception and lungs collapsing from abandonment;
it's hard to take a breath while drowning in self perpetuated silence.