I know falling apart is just

one of those easy things,

but I guess I was really

hoping it would have been

harder than it looked.
I must look so put together.

I mean, that has to be

why I shift inside and outside

of wide shadowed rooms,

it’s like the shadows are not

ever dark enough to make me

want to stay.

I still cry during corny movies

because I wish things really

did fall together like that.

I wish my bones weren’t

made from glass.
They’ll never ask about

the cavities in your teeth

but you’re still making sure

they know about how you brush

2 times a day (sometimes 3) and then

you floss until your gums are sore

but you always leave out the part
where you grind your back molars too much

whenever you try to sleep.

The dentist told you it was totally normal

but soon they’re crumbling and you think:

No, not so normal.
The days when I smile, I look sad

and the days when I cry, I look happy.
It’s like I’m all muddled together

from trying to switch the gears

too fast.

I revved my engine

until I couldn’t even roar anymore.
Falling apart was just 
too easy to ever
try to make it hard

and some girl in my science class

keeps saying something

about the tragedies being art

but this isn’t poetic

or pretty,

how could it be

when falling apart should never

come this easy?