Pieces of Me

How many hearts have been broken by a broken heart?

Love has become a gift only from indian givers

Where takesies and backsies are as common as x’s and o’s

Love has become a razor blade in the corner of our eyes

Even when we smile, we have a little cry

Where thoughts and cuts are the curse of emotion

Blood and tears can become synonyms

As we all wonder if we even deserve to show our teeth

Checking reflections to ensure the skeleton remains hidden

Can you see anything?

There’s so many who have bits of my heart

Stuck in their incisor

After they chewed and spit

While I sucked and swallowed

my lips and tears, I mean

Every day is a new day to change

As we all grow weary of our regifted pain

Like a toaster from the 80’s that hasn’t found a home

Homeless is like loveless, except one has a roof

But loveless is a cold no layers can warm

There’s no reason for either

Love comes from within

Without it, love and herpes become virtually

interchangeable

like the broken hearted hearts

and the razors we sew

in the corners of our eyes

 

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