Poetry

Ripped and torn to pieces,
all because of jagged lines,
crisscrossing my broken heart.
Zigzagging along my flesh,
they cut deeply into my being.
They pull, they tug, until nothing is left.
the search, they seek, looking for my weakest spots.
They suck, and they suck, until all that
is left is an empty husk,
waiting to be filled.
These jagged lines bring forth
my darkest fears, pulling them
through the cracks into the light of day.
They force me to look at myself,
not as a person, but as an object.
To evaluate my weaknesses and feelings.
My mind and heart are at war,
each telling me something different.
Each prompting me to be more, but
it’s still not the same.
This jagged line has done too much,
asked too much of me.
It wants me to finally crack,
to finally give in.
But should I let it break me down?
Should I let them slowly eat me alive from the inside?
Or should I fight back,
taking the needle and thread and pulling myself back together again?
No one is perfect, no matter how
hard they try to be.
So while I may not ever be able to
fully close all the gaps and heal myself completely,
I can still try to keep the seams
from tearing apart and leaving me helpless
to my own desires.
Try, with all that you are, to
be true to yourself, for all of time,
and protect yourself from jagged lines.