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Pieces of Me
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Personal (Melancholy) Only a handful of people
have ever really known me.
So when people have rejected me,
they've only rejected pieces of me.
Never the whole me.
You never met me,
but your rejection hurts just the same.
The pieces of me you despised,
those pieces fell away
or were buried deep inside
to avoid further refusal.
I've kept myself hidden for so long
that I don't even know
who I am anymore.
My identity has all
but disintegrated.
All these pieces
rejected by everyone over time
making a mess in my mind.
My thoughts are in chaos,
and I don't know what's
the real me at this point.
