Shattered Glass, Broken Shell
I am torn and bleeding,
Ripped to shreds from the beating,
I took the night you left me,
Standing on a bridge ready to collapse,
And all I can think is “Was it me, perhaps?”
Now I am drowning in darkness,
Wishing you'd come back with that feeling I miss.
Smoke and mirrors surrounded me,
I misstepped once, how can this be?
That my fall would reveal your truth and identity.
Too much to handle then, but I'm still here,
I pieced back together the mirrors in fear
That it wasn't an illusion, hoping that it wasn’t fate
But the truth remained inside of me and filled me with hate.
It boils and molds and twists and grows,
'Til I'm left standing alone in the cold.
Wondering and wishing and hoping and praying
That my reluctance won't leave me paying
A great price for the rest of my life for
What I thought was truth and honesty, but more
Than that, I made it my life, my purpose and foundation
From which I stood and grew into a nation
Of self worth and confidence and hope.
Now I'm standing on a chair with a rope
Tied around my neck, threatening and daunting, those very
Mirrors that I had erected and then repaired, staring me down making me weary
Of the fact that I could've been horribly wrong
And blinded by ignorance all along.
And yet I still cling to the smoke and lies
That must be provided by those very eyes
That gave me my foundation of brick and stone
And built upon it their very own throne
From which they ultimately possessed me, body and soul
From which they could easily toss me into a hole,
A pit of disaster and pain and heartbreak
That left me with scars and unable to make
Sense of myself and my surroundings, so abound
With shadows and ghosts that have found
My weaknesses so carefully covered and hidden
From the world, cold and uncaring, that has ridden
Me away from warmth and comfort, and making me pay,
Forcing me to stay alone in this way
So sadly shapen from glass of delicate
Standing, making me tip-toe and remain,
In a sense so darkly inhumane,
Comfortably, quietly unbroken
That I might wonder who has spoken
So harshly as to crack me from bottom to rim
When the mirrors seemed to have covered me on whim
In layers of concrete making me whole
No longer see through so the world would know
That I am alive and able to be
A source of life, so I thought, can't you see?
That they're tearing me down, these mirrors erected,
From which I thought I saw myself and my world reflected,
But I feel as if the resounding shock wave
From the way you thrash and behave
Has broken me inside where my glass was once whole
Yet the concrete laid upon me stands still, though hollow.
No can see that the inside was me
And now I'm paying a sickly fee
For a false form, whole I am not
But barely a part of, tied in a knot
Of circling guilt and fear and anguish
As that delicate inside, the mirrors extinguish
And shatter, though you claim ignorance
For the pieces you have managed to glance
At and still not see, and my voice is lost
To you, unaware that for your actions there is a cost:
My soul is fading, its glass cover has been shattered
The pieces are leaking through a shell that is battered
From being tossed around and used so carelessly
As to make me wonder if you'll ever really miss me.
I cried for you to come to my aid
But you turned your back and for this I have paid
A dear price I cannot afford.
Of my antics it is plain you are bored,
And now I cry alone, drained of the energy I gave
In hopes a friendship might continue to pave
A new and brighter path for me.
But now I am doomed for eternity
To revisit my mistakes and wonder
Why I could not be forgiven and felt of fonder.
I could not be more sorry for the pain
I must have caused that will not wane
That you choose to inflict upon me,
With purpose and knowing, so indefinitely,
A bout of bitter cold I cannot ignore....
Leaving me struggling for breath and warmth, curled on the floor.
And with this I can say no more.
From my shattered and throbbing core
I am sorry I disappointed and annoyed and hurt,
I am sorry I could not mean more than dirt.
In time even my shell will crumble
And I will be free to tumble
Along with the wind free of this guilt
And this house of pain and sadness that has been built.
Ripped to shreds from the beating,
I took the night you left me,
Standing on a bridge ready to collapse,
And all I can think is “Was it me, perhaps?”
Now I am drowning in darkness,
Wishing you'd come back with that feeling I miss.
Smoke and mirrors surrounded me,
I misstepped once, how can this be?
That my fall would reveal your truth and identity.
Too much to handle then, but I'm still here,
I pieced back together the mirrors in fear
That it wasn't an illusion, hoping that it wasn’t fate
But the truth remained inside of me and filled me with hate.
It boils and molds and twists and grows,
'Til I'm left standing alone in the cold.
Wondering and wishing and hoping and praying
That my reluctance won't leave me paying
A great price for the rest of my life for
What I thought was truth and honesty, but more
Than that, I made it my life, my purpose and foundation
From which I stood and grew into a nation
Of self worth and confidence and hope.
Now I'm standing on a chair with a rope
Tied around my neck, threatening and daunting, those very
Mirrors that I had erected and then repaired, staring me down making me weary
Of the fact that I could've been horribly wrong
And blinded by ignorance all along.
And yet I still cling to the smoke and lies
That must be provided by those very eyes
That gave me my foundation of brick and stone
And built upon it their very own throne
From which they ultimately possessed me, body and soul
From which they could easily toss me into a hole,
A pit of disaster and pain and heartbreak
That left me with scars and unable to make
Sense of myself and my surroundings, so abound
With shadows and ghosts that have found
My weaknesses so carefully covered and hidden
From the world, cold and uncaring, that has ridden
Me away from warmth and comfort, and making me pay,
Forcing me to stay alone in this way
So sadly shapen from glass of delicate
Standing, making me tip-toe and remain,
In a sense so darkly inhumane,
Comfortably, quietly unbroken
That I might wonder who has spoken
So harshly as to crack me from bottom to rim
When the mirrors seemed to have covered me on whim
In layers of concrete making me whole
No longer see through so the world would know
That I am alive and able to be
A source of life, so I thought, can't you see?
That they're tearing me down, these mirrors erected,
From which I thought I saw myself and my world reflected,
But I feel as if the resounding shock wave
From the way you thrash and behave
Has broken me inside where my glass was once whole
Yet the concrete laid upon me stands still, though hollow.
No can see that the inside was me
And now I'm paying a sickly fee
For a false form, whole I am not
But barely a part of, tied in a knot
Of circling guilt and fear and anguish
As that delicate inside, the mirrors extinguish
And shatter, though you claim ignorance
For the pieces you have managed to glance
At and still not see, and my voice is lost
To you, unaware that for your actions there is a cost:
My soul is fading, its glass cover has been shattered
The pieces are leaking through a shell that is battered
From being tossed around and used so carelessly
As to make me wonder if you'll ever really miss me.
I cried for you to come to my aid
But you turned your back and for this I have paid
A dear price I cannot afford.
Of my antics it is plain you are bored,
And now I cry alone, drained of the energy I gave
In hopes a friendship might continue to pave
A new and brighter path for me.
But now I am doomed for eternity
To revisit my mistakes and wonder
Why I could not be forgiven and felt of fonder.
I could not be more sorry for the pain
I must have caused that will not wane
That you choose to inflict upon me,
With purpose and knowing, so indefinitely,
A bout of bitter cold I cannot ignore....
Leaving me struggling for breath and warmth, curled on the floor.
And with this I can say no more.
From my shattered and throbbing core
I am sorry I disappointed and annoyed and hurt,
I am sorry I could not mean more than dirt.
In time even my shell will crumble
And I will be free to tumble
Along with the wind free of this guilt
And this house of pain and sadness that has been built.