koala.

first of all, i am a person. a person with thoughts and feelings and emotions and hopes and dreams. i am a person that trusts and wants and has great faith. i am someone who strongly believes what they believe and will stand by what i say. i am not a rag doll, i am not lifeless, emotionless and numb. i am who i am. i live and breathe emotion into every word i say. i am in the end a good person, with good intentions.

this makes me the perfect candidate. i know that i fit the mold to be used and abused. i know that i fit the mold to be broken and shattered into a million pieces. i know that in the end i will always lose. and that after this loss i am personally responsible for picking up all of the pieces. i know i don't put them back together the right way each and every time it happens. and i know this time there are too many pieces and i just can't seem to pick them all up. they are too small and even if i was able to put them back together, what was left would be too fragile to form anything close to the heart i once had.

this heart of mine people have loved and envied. i know its a kind and good heart. i know it is capable of doing amazing things. but the people that love it, break it. and the people that envy it, aid this process. but once i get this heart back together, with all of its tiny pieces, even if it is missing some, even if i feel a little bit less because of it. i know that this heart, no matter how fragile it is, it is a good one. one that loves like no one else's. and those people that love it and break it, will envy it too.

i know that this fragile heart of mine, no matter how broken will still feel. it will feel real things and good things and i will keep living and breathing emotion into every word i speak. and i will keep trying to love with this broken heart. and it will keep losing pieces and at this rate there soon wont be many left. and when the tiny little pieces can't be put back together again, i will die with that heart.

my heart is too broken. too fragile. i can't pick up the pieces. i can't put it back together. i don't have the tools. i simply want to sit on the floor with my fragile and broken heart and look at the pieces. because when i breathe my last breath in front of this mess of pieces on the floor, i know that i loved and i cared and i breathed the life that put me where i am now. and i can die happy looking at this broken heart knowing that i did not play a part in breaking it.

i know i can't pick up the pieces and i know there isn't much left to put back together and i know there is no way back out from here.