Expectation of finding reflection
in your life,
How do so when all around are broken mirrors,
much like I am
A fragile frame of glass.

Jumping off the edge of life,
still haven't met the bottom,
Just floating along in the air.

As a lot I say to sadness,
only giving me a headache to the moon,
I just need my space,
still I love to rush into it,
but I'm not down to the race.

For this could be the anti, anti
of my anti source of feeling
An anti, anti feeling to how I'm secretly
bleeding out of the face.

It's all made me feel worthless,
as the piece of trash in this world.
I'm such a waste,
wasting away on so many negative feelings,
A subtraction of life within me.

All are little broken pieces,
just too tiny for you to really see them.