I’m fractured, fragmented
Or blurred. These parts of me
Aren’t seamless. I am
Patchwork, a ransom note
I am scraps and pieces
That make no sense together
Merely placed in the same body.
Lucky coincidence?
Parts of me are polar
My brain a patchwork chemical
Quilt of highs to lows.
Euphoria and self destruction.
Forgive me when I do not appear
To know whether to hold on,
Or push away, these things take time.
electricity shall jump start
The tectonic plates of emotions to
Start an earthquake and make volcanos
Erupt.
Forget me, I’m fragmented, part
This, part that. Black or white.
Not a single hue of grey.
I’ve written so many ransom notes
To my own brain to know this now.
My heart the companion bomb
Ticking itself away with no hands
To show how much time remains.
(A.T)
Aimee 