I’ll never wish this on anyone,
This feeling that I have.
Not knowing if you did it right this time.
I’ve been unmade so many times.
I don’t remember where the pieces go.
I can’t remember what fits where.
I do know that I fucked up somewhere.
I can feel it. Somethings are out of place.
Each time I’ve been disassembled,
I’ve tried my best to reconstruct myself.
But there are so many fragments.
There are just… so fucking many.
And each time, it takes me longer.
Each time it gets harder.
The broken pieces get smaller.
I’m losing faith.
I fear I’ll crumble.
The fragments that comprise my being,
Won’t last much longer.
It’s like trying to build a statue
Using nothing but pebbles.
Even if I’m bound to crumble,
I’ll still try everytime.
Even though I know the futility of it all,
I’ll do my best to rebuild my self.
This wasn’t the first time.
And if my past is any indicator,
This will not be the last.