"I am broken"  slides off the tongue easy,
but leaving the dream is not as thrilling  
I have made friends with my cracks that I
I don't remember how not to be broken
We sit and chat around the bonfire of my, insecurities....
Laughing on, about our best memories
....Memories of heartache, depression betrayal,,
of obscurities
that Kindled my life as long as I can remember.

I think,
I'm now addicted...
To holding hands with my pieces
To the warmth of my insecurities
To the peace when I trace my, backtracks

I think I'm now addicted,
.... to the lies painted by my smile
to the tingling feeling when my heart is pricked by arrows of, disappointment
To the reality of feeling uncomfortable in my skin
Because to me that is, contentment.

I am broken,
Parts of me can no longer fit, together.
My thoughts are triangles, In a circle of my reality, around my square life.
Held together by tired strips of, leather.
I am broken, but somehow I make it work.