Withered

I’ve been putting myself back together
Using masking tape and super glue
Trying to make sure all the pieces fit
The way they did before you

But I didn’t come with an
Instruction manual
So I can’t be certain
I put everything where it belongs

You can’t destroy what is
Already broken
You can’t turn me back around
You can’t destroy me
I’m already broken
But I’m picking myself
Off the ground

Tattered and stained
From industrial adhesive
I can’t remember where that belongs

I think it goes somewhere between
My lungs and my liver
But there are so many pieces
Is that really the shape of my heart?

Now I’m feeling
Withered, shattered, and grey
And I have are these
Thoughts and they plague me
But still they remain
Unlike someone I used to know

I’ve been putting my pieces
Back together
Using masking tape and super glue
I’m trying to make sure things end up the same
As they were before I met you

Wish I came with an instruction manual
To be certain this is where this piece belongs
But the pieces are getting so small
Can’t remember where it goes
I think this is where it belongs

Is this really the shape of my heart?
Is this really the shape of my heart?