Life as I see it is full of dents, chips, and fractures
As one takes more steps
What they look back on isn’t the things that remained whole and polished
It’s the blemishes they hold on to.
I want to believe I have more dreams than nightmares
Preventing eyes from closing
Never succumbing to sleep.
I want to pretend I have more wholes than fragments
I have to keep the cold from shattering the warm glass
But I always seem to drop the things most prone to break,
Hiding the broken pieces in a vacuum;
Ignorant to the sharp edges that prick the bag,
Holding something more delicate than I knew.
Dignity, pride, self satisfaction
Is bound to shatter;
It just depends on how well it was made
Or how many fortifiers I installed,
But sooner or later something will disrupt the smooth skin,
And what was trapped inside will spill out;
And everyone will know I am human.