When the glue wears out no amount of tape can ever hold things together the way they once were.  
The love I have been showered with since day one has been nothing more than a facade.
And now it is raining and the frogs are hella loud.

I have never walked in
The doors of perception
Never tasted the red apple
Never pursued mushroom truths
Bitter **** grown reality
Not a fallacy, but part of me
The psychedelic

I’ve never seen the cosmic mind
Twinkling in and out of time
Patterns perfectly fitted
To dreams and facts still hidden
Becoming the transverse
Of my outer universe
The negative space
That fills my face
Connected while separate
From everyone else
Till I walk the road of
My truest inner self

I have never drank the Ayahuasca Tea
To discover the true me with DMT
Partly because I am scared
Of what darkness lies in there
But mostly because
They are illegal and hard to find

The road gets rough and your heart starts aching
The sky turns grey and it started raining
You want it to stop, but your energy's draining
Overflowing is the sadness that this mind is making

Each word that comes may hurt like a splinter
But now it's all too much, nothing to do but whimper
It was all so sweet, but now it turned so bitter
Gone is summer, now it's back to winter

Your life was colorful, now it's black and white
Starting to get mixed up if you're wrong or right
Wondering, asking, wether to give up or fight
Just hang in there and you'll soon see the light

There won't be a rainbow without a little rain
But it's a storm that came, now it's causing you pain
Drowning in sorrow, it's driving you insane
But soon it'll all be a stain that will never remain

Don't give in now for a temporary feeling
If you'll just let yourself take time for healing
No more concealing whenever you're bleeding
And no more grieving that your inside is *dying

There are so many things to learn from swimming in your broken pieces. You think you are drowning- you are not. The way to fix yourself is not to find someone who will dive into the pool of your brokenness just to tie you back together with their thin threads of skin. Along the way, you might fall apart again; and everything, along with them, might fall apart altogether. You can never call it love if you never were whole in the process- your heart isn't whole. Heed an advice: leave these pieces behind. Do not bother searching for a burial ground for they will never leave in peace, but only in pieces. You will be whole; these things that hurt you were never meant to be a part of you. And just perhaps, someday, you'd be able to love- much better than you used to.