series one: falling apart

can they see it?

when they see me in passing,

do they know im coming undone?

when they glance at my face as i walk by,

can they recognize the madness?

when i speak,

can they hear the grief flowing from my lips?

sometimes i feel like sorrow was woven in to the fabric that made me

like i was created already tainted

as if god himself looked into my soul,

raw and uninhibited,

and declared that it was beyond fixing

little girls who were told

that they were too walled up to be loved by anyone

someday will allow their hearts to be ravaged

by little boys who were never taught to treat them otherwise

those little girls

who were told love always came with pain

will take those little boy’s cruelty with open arms,

as nobody

little girls, little boys

were taught to be anything other then what they have become

i still hold on to my memories of you

and try them on like and old jacket

where the sleeves are to short and the pockets have holes

but i keep it in my closet

and try it back on when the world gets to cold

because any time i wear that tattered fabric

i can still smell the remnants of what we were

how do you tell someone your falling apart

when you know deep down

they have no intentions of helping you pick up the pieces?

i was always so afraid to be the one that takes and never gave back

so i became the one that gives everything i have to offer

to people who don’t want what i can give