I call myself for your attention
but do I need it seriously?
Do I need the taste of your lips
on my coffee cup?
Do I need your perfume running through my late night baths?

The you I want,
who is it?
Is it you who turned me into thousand of pieces?
Or is it just the aftertaste of a bad dream?

The you I want is not a you.
Is not a thing,
but maybe it is.
It doesn't exist in thoughts
it doesn't seem to has a face.

I drink my coffee in the mornings.
All I can see is a kid with no body, no structure.
All I see is myself.

There were rainbow colors in the skies
=
She had clouds in her eyes
=
She saw things with colors no ones ever seen before
=
She had keys to every door.
=
All of them except for his heart
=
And it slowly tore her apart
=
It tore her to pieces
=
And now she is dreamless
=
And all of her colors are gone

My brokenness
Pieces of me
Being put back together
By you, God
Piece by piece you put me together
Showing me the way of where to go
My pieces
The map
I cannot see it so
I rely on you to show me the way
Once I find my way
With your help
My pieces are slowly getting glued back together
One by one and
Once I hit the end of my adventure
My pieces are glued forever
As if I was never broken
For in you I am found perfect
With you I am found perfect
Because that is how you see me
Perfect and unbroken

i never intended
to take apart
all the pieces
you glued back
together

Funny,
They tell tell you
To get rid of toxic
Things in your life,
But when you tell
Your Mom
That being around her,
Makes you want to die,
She breaks into
A million pieces
And begins to cry.