Pieces

I am broken into a million pieces.
I can't put myself back together.
There are pieces missing. You took them
with you, never to be whole again.

How can I be whole? There will always be
parts of me missing.
People will have to accept that I will never be complete.

Please take care of my pieces.
Wrap them up and carry them in your pocket,
show no one. No one needs to see my bleeding heart, soul and smile...that's only for you to pull out and gaze.

So I walk around empty, just a shell. A shell with no heart, soul or smile.