perhaps fragments are easier to maintain?
patching up, trying to make up for the gaping hole within my soul, its arduous.
i found more holes, more empty spots in the crevices of my sanity, confidence and abilities.
i found out what i needed to work on, but i left my words behind
the utterances that used to echo in my head to spur me forward.
but this led to them shattering into fragments, falling onto my bare feet, piercing bare skin.
yet i found that these pieces didn’t always fit, involving the need to severe some portions off.
i found what i should work after, and along the way i’m picking up the pieces.
and most of the time, i'm just being foolish.
i noticed that i largely overestimate myself.
but reaching a point where it get overwhelming, i shy back into the comfort of a damp, crumbling cardboard box.
i like to explore things, snuggling up against the warmth of cotton knit sweaters.
perhaps its meant to be read from the bottom, or maybe not.