Broken,

Am I,

The one who is lying,

As though dying,

 

Trying to find a way

Out of the mess that I made.

 

Broken,

Is the one who

Always fixes,

 

The one who realizes

That nothing is new.

 

Broken,

Am I,

 

The one who tries,

Tries hard to find and hold on

To these things that will not hold.

 

Broken.

 

Am I,

The one who is calling

When things are falling

 

Apart?

 

Broken.

Am I.

 

Broken.

Are we.

 

Broken

When we lean against one another

When Mother and Father
Both go against each other.

 

Broken.

 

Am I the one who

Always fixes this

 

Disembodied piece of broken-ness?

Broken.

 

Am I the one who

Always mixes this

 

Sweet aroma of pleasure?

Broken am I

The one who tries,

Tries as though dying

Dying to find a way out of this mess that I made.