Dj TeAsEandToRmEnT's blog: "poetry some new some old .. all mine"

Broken, pulled apart, pieces,
Torn from the thing that’s called myself.
I look about, scattered, all I see is me.
Pulled in too many directions,
Scarred from the past,
Scared of my future,
Taunted by possibilities of what can never be.
I shower, eat, cry and sleep,
Burry myself deep beneath
A cold exterior where no-one can reach...