I’m a fractured line
when it comes to you.
I’m the cracks
And you’re the glue.

Am I reaching for stars
instead of shells on the beach?
Looking up that the clouds
instead of what’s down at my feet?

I was born broken,
had a schizophrenic father
who fell off the deep end.
And a mother that beat me
with a metal spatula,
until I flipped as a pancake.
Burnt on both sides.
But raw in the middle.
An only child, that knew little.

I’m a fractured line
when it comes to you.
I’m the cracks
And you’re the glue.