two parts of me.

You never realize how hard it is to put the pieces back together until you finally sit down with a hot glue gun and realize that the pieces are scattered. That there are so many you will never see again. All that time spent shattering and not enough spent collecting, not enough spent realizing you were breaking. With every chip came a broken smile implemented to cover up the pain and up until this very instant you had successfully deceived yourself into thinking everything was ok. Now what? Want to put yourself back together but you just don’t know how. I want to put myself back together but I just don’t know how.

I can’t be your friend—not now and not for a while. My desire to see you is burning a hole in my chest but I don’t know how to be around you without laying my world at your feet. That’s my vulnerability, my biggest down fall. I live behind a stone wall that at times I can’t even penetrate myself. And with that protection comes a certain kind of sacrifice… one that almost seems inconsequential considering the fact that when I let someone in I don’t simply unlock the door. There is no door and there is no lock… there is only a sledgehammer. And when I surrender myself to uncertainty, the whole wall is gone. There is a wall no longer. There is only my heart and my world, laid barren at your feet. So no, I don’t take to breaking this wall too often. I’m free and I’m safe but I’m alone. Slowly chipping away at the rock, hoping it won’t be long.