• My heart may be in pieces but my body is whole... Not many can see the cuts on the inside... But I know they’re there... I ignore the pain and get rid of the emotion... But my hearts still in pieces...

    I see the death of me in certain things yet I forget the pain... I see the real cuts and let them bleed... I feel the real pain and do nothing to make it stop...

    My hearts still in pieces even threw time and space... The resurrection of me will have the same broken pieces... They will have the same puzzle to try to solve... I am one of the best puzzle solvers... Yet my hearts still in pieces...

    You may see the fake me... The hollow me... But not many can see the full me... The radiant me... To see it, if you don’t, you would have to go through hell and back just to get past the fake shell...

    My hearts pieces are lost and scrambled... The pieces are lost... Without all the pieces how could the puzzle be whole again??? The only thing that could heal this is getting rid of it and never finding the pieces again... But yet... It wouldn’t really heal...

    To see the complete work you would have to finish it... This heart is too demented to behold though... Oh how would you find it prized if it were battered and still broken??? It’s not suppose to be whole... Never again... When HE first gave me a heart it was pure and still beating... But now...

    My hearts in many pieces and its dead... No life stirs within it... The little drop of pureness left is rare to find... The pureness moves from piece to piece to see if it can have a sturdy home... That little drop is the only thing I have left from what I see... And yet... It still can’t find a home...

    The pieces fight and get even more battered and broken all because of that one little drop... That all there is left and no one can see it... I see its light... I don’t see it... I wish I could see it... So just may be the pureness could evolve to something more... Something greater than the little drop there is...

    My heart has been destroyed many times... Just its never been whole again... If only the drop was bigger if only the drop was brighter... Maybe... Just maybe... It could restore my heart to its original form... Not the battered broken pieces it’s in...

    All the rage from this pureness makes it seem obscured... Like it’s the dark evil in me... Not the pureness... I wish it was the evil though... It would prevent a whole lot more brutal heart breaks and blow ups... Yet it’s not... The evil is being held back by the little drop... Its turning me good...

    But the evil leaks out... The little drop of pureness doesn’t keep everything in... It’s not strong enough... Not now... It needs to become an ocean before it can keep all the evil in... The little things hold me back... The little things stick out of the pureness...

    Those little things keep me from killing me and everyone around me... I’m not as strong as you think... The pain that reminds me I’m still alive keeps me here among the living... The dead don’t want the real me and the world won’t accept the real me... I’m stuck...

    Not many people want me either... The real fake ones all laugh at me... Call me names... Hurt me on the inside... They don’t want the real me... They all just have sick minds that cant b settled... I don’t want an a*****e to help me up when I’m down... I want someone who really cares...

    Not many care to listen to my sob story... My heart break is enough to make them hate me... They would call me names... They would turn against me... They would despise me... Yet... All of them will die one day... And the last thing that they will think of is me...

    They will think of me... Because they don’t won’t know how much they hurt me until they get hurt the same way... When they die then they will all regret not caring... If they wanted to know just to laugh and curse at me then that all they had to say...

    I see them die... That fuels the hate... Just seeing certain people die... It all works out... They won’t know what happened to them till they see and feel my pain...

    My hearts still in pieces after the many attempts... They can’t put it back together... They can’t see the little drop of pureness... They can’t help me let alone help themselves... They will never know... Not until they be the real them... I will never know... I don’t know the real me...

    I don’t even know if I’m here or not... I can’t ever think straight... I can’t ever find the right words to say... I can’t even spell my name at times... If it is my real name...

    My heart gives me false visions... It shows me a time where I might of been real... Might of been happy... And now it can only show bits and pieces... Because it is in pieces...

    Let the pieces be for they are me...