I've broken myself.
Inflicted a wound that will never heal.
That will never be seen.
If it was possible, I'd be shattered all across the floor,
pinching you as you walk across what I was.
But not enough for you to take a two second glance down or for you to remember who I am.

I've silenced my voice.
I've tossed aside my feelings.
I've dug deeper and deeper into this unwanted hole until the sun disappeared.
I don't look up.
But I still know what I once had and that I will be too weak to get it back.

I never stop slipping.
I only get to feel what it's like to be close, but it's never close enough.
No sugar is placed on my tongue when it's out, only posion.
No flowers get put in my oustretched hand, only knives.
I look at them, and realize, I don't mind.
Though I hear, in the back of my head, my screaming towards the objects and the powder that murders.

I never recoginze when it's the right time to.
Give me a minute.
Give me an hour.
Give me a week.
It'll come. But don't hold your breath.
Give me a chance, but I know you won't.
Give me time.
I have all the time I want down in this hole.

So I must find my own way to peice myself back together.
To unsealed my voice and emotions.
To find my grasp in this place.
I'll try, like always.
But it wouldn't hurt to look down here to check if I'm okay..