I like me better broken; I like me torn apart.
I like me bleeding, dying, like grotesque gallery art.
I like me better lost, struggling not to drown.
I like me flailing uselessly as I fall back to the ground.

I like me crushed to dust, scrambling to find all my pieces.
I like me panicky and scared, unable to grasp what peace is.
I like me down and empty, watching life pass me by.
I like me  pathetic, pitiful; give me something to hide behind.

Pity me. Pity me. Tell me I've a reason to be so morose.
Wrap me up in comforting words until I find the strength to go.
Love me unhealthily, let me pledge my life to you
And wrap myself up until I forget every dream I looked forward to.

Hurt me like I was so used to; make me feel at home.
Treat me like a dog and when I'm done, throw me a bone.
Box me into the smallest of spaces, my own castle of thorns.
Nurse me back to unhappiness and praise me when I'm forlorn.

I'm lost when I'm smiling, I wasn't built to maintain it
To live without reason is the function I'm best with.
I'm a mess when it's good, don't know how to regulate
I like me better without a smile for smiling's sake.

I like me better bottled up and bound and screaming for help
I like me better sobbing and bitter and disgusted with myself.
I like me better when I'm comfortably apathetic and undone.
As things would have it, I'm pathetic, I like me better broken.