The worst thing about being shattered

You have to carry every broken piece of yourself until you can fix you

And all along the way they fall

and sometimes break even more

and at times you will drop all the pieces

and the hardest thing is picking them up and putting them back on your shoulder

just to continue on

all the while being so unsure if you’ll ever be okay



there is a slight difference between broken and shattered.

so slight, that it’s barely noticeable, but if you look long enough you will see

you will see the pieces of me that I thought were broken into chunks are in fact shattered into the tiniest pieces

some of them so small and chipped away, that I will never be able to piece them back together

but I will someday, piece myself back together I mean. not every piece will fit, and not every piece will be found, but I’ll be together in the best way I can be

all of my cracks showing and sparkling, with windows where you can see straight to my soul, and it will be shining with love and the light of happiness because I will have overcome


you get me

I want to cry when I think about the way you look at me

You still accept me, not just for who I am but the way I look

The stretch marks I have on my hips and ass

The scars I have from my hips to my thighs

The three fat rolls on my back, and you kiss me with my morning breath


The way men look at me scars me in some ways.

It doesn’t make me feel safe or human, it makes me feel like prey

Like I am the goat and they are the lion, and we are alone.

In the field

just friends

this time was different.
he kissed me the same

he smiled at me the same
but this time was different

he fucked me the same
he held me the same

he spoke to me the same
yet I feel like I gave away something

That I was supposed to be keeping


I am a twig.

If you step on me I will break and you’ll hear a snap.

You may cringe, but you won’t stop walking.

You won’t even look back.

You’ll expect me to be okay, and bury your guilt behind your insecurities.

All the while I am still broken, still snapped.

The sound plays over and over in my head.

Snap snap snap


it is never the right person at the wrong time. it is just the wrong person

the person who swears they will stay until the day they don’t

the person who inhales all of your love only to exhale it into the face of another

the person who steals your oxygen

hate hate hate hate hate

hate is a dangerous emotion

it sets my veins on fire and engulfs my skin

it’s occupies my mind and dissipates my brain

it is what gives me a sore neck

or a headache

it cannot be satisfied and should never be fed

hate is the white-hot fire that can not be put out

only coerced down

Body pieces: me 

i’m lonely but i’m not alone i smile but i’m not happy

I’ve eaten but i haven’t been full

i sleep but i’m still tired

i work but i have no money

i say i’m okay but i never am

i’m on what seems like a never ending journey to fill myself

i am searching blind, because i don’t know what i’m looking for

i’m not lost but i do need to be found

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