Scattered

I am

Broken, like a vase shattered.

Glass shards scattered.

Sharp.

Dull.

Tiny.

Large.

Invisible.

The cuts are minute,

But the pain is mighty.

Blood is drawn, it drips and stains.

I try my best to clean up.

Tears fall rapidly, the saltiness mixes with the crimson red.

I pick up the pieces

Glue, paste, place them back together.

I try to fix what is broken.

But some of the pieces remain scattered.