I've got a common set of insecurities.
A wide variety of trust issues.
A closet filled with I can't love you's.

I've got a tainted heart,
Painted all over with cracks,
Wrapped around in bandages,
Filled with holes where hope escapes leaving me less whole.

I've got a broken mind.
One which over-analyses each concept of the world to avoid further damage.

I've got hitched breaths and broken voices.
Wirings in my head,
Cocked up screws running my emotions
Forcing me to hide and avoid commotions

I've turned into a literal device.
I've been given limitations.
Turned into a personification.
Talk about a huge oxymoron.

I've been turned into the world's biggest metaphor,
An allegory of what people shouldn't be.
I've been made into some anecdote.

They believed  I would succumb to the notion of pain.
That I could be battered and tattered into some emotional mess.
To wallow and swallow the hurt,
To writher and turn hollow.

The thought assumption is that the final process of completely annihilating a person.
They must be tantalized and blown to smitherings with ones past.

It's the perfect analogy of a literal masterpiece that comes with a lesson.

However the forgotten loophole of meeting a person willing to stand by us has been casted off.
With the assumption our feelings have become one as machinery.

They forgot we could be Wall E and Eva,
We could defy the code.
We could stand tall, fight the pain and feel better.