Immaterial

"I'll fix you"

You'll fix me?
Why?

Because I'm a poor desperate soul with an empty heart longing for guidance?
Or because I'm a depressing piece of shit littering up your vision with my terrible apathetic despondency?

Fix me because I'm broken?
Or fix me because I'm ugly?
Fix me because I need it?
Or fix me because you need it?

Do it then. Fix me.
Let your overbearing words float from your mouth and into the air like the dust-mites that float into one ear and out of the other
They'll shatter like glass

Take your arrogant thoughts and cram them into my mind like you cram your life into a bottle of hatred
They'll crumble like sand

Give me your fake care and and your disguised disgust and expect me to change myself into a plastic doll; beautiful and unbreakable and as common as dirt
You'll split me into pieces

Go ahead and fix me.
Glue me with gestures and tape me with words and spit on me when you're done

You can say that you've fixed me.
But you can't fix what isn't broken in the first place