Broken.
Shattered.
Fucked up.
Nearly grounded, except when my head is in the clouds.
I will never be your everything, I cannot be there for you.
If it wasn't for the way I am, I may actually be a decent human being,
My blood and my tears, my words and my fight,
They are never enough to get you through,
I won't try any longer,
I can't be any stronger,
I won't fight any harder,
Just.
For.
You.
1 comment:
Decent doesn't begin to describe what you are, understand that.
You are so much better than that.
Fucked up is a phrase that I detest, we are who we are, and all of us are different, you may be broken, but fucked up you are not.
I can't remodel you back to perfection, erasing every scar, how I wish I could, but only so you could breathe and it didn't hurt.
I do have tape, glue, and immense amounts of care, and love.
I do have pieces of me, to fit into the gaping holes that you have. Maybe they won't fit perfectly, but at least you'll know that I am with you, always.
When your heart beats, you'll know that I'm there, because part of me is with you.
No, maybe I cannot make the scars go away, but I can give you my parts that aren't scarred.
Post a Comment