Knock! Knock! 

It’s me!! Haha its us! It’s you…

Aww don’t give me that face now. You forgot about me didn’t you? 

So wrapped up in this fantasized world trying to paint over reality with a water color brush.

Guess what… you can’t paint water color on glass.

That’s all these pathetic walls are. Brittle, weak, and broken glass. That’s all you are. A weak piece of glass. 

One push and you’re shattered on the floor in a million microscopic pieces… Again. 

I will admit they seem convincing at first glance. But this tough girl can only so far stupid.

All it takes is one coming into focus look to see the truth. 

These people you surround yourself with…

They use you. 

Use, destroy, discard. 

You can’t keep anyone close for more than a year and they will leave. 

Because they find out you’re an old worn shirt. Seemed cool at the thrift store until they see you’ve been washed too many times, dragged through the mud too many times, patched up holes too many times, just used too many times. 

Even the ones you’ve thought you’ve known for years and finally trust. 

They left. 

But this fantasy land you live in is crazy to me.

You put these fictionalized characters  on pedestals and dissect them like a science project. 

You circle them like pray slowly, and quietly analyzing every inch. 

Once your satisfied with your target,

you sharpen your dull knife and begin to carve out every piece you like. 

You take these freshly amputated pieces  and put them in your own puzzle. 

But then you become irritated when they don’t fit perfectly,

You become mad when people question why it’s so out of place, 

You’re fake.

There’s nothing real about you. 

You have gotten so lost in this false world you don’t even know who you are anymore. 

This poem is about: 
My community


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