Sta.sh
- I'm a skeletal hollowed figure,
stuffed with paper insides.
My figure slumps and drags,
I'm not pleasing to the eyes.
Detached, cold to the touch,
tarnished, worn and blackened.
I'm ashamed of who I am,
But my self deprecation is reasoned.
Yet I'm a sight for sore eyes,
a safe and somber cover.
My only original fragments left,
serve solely as a dim reminder.
Floating through the years,
forced to make myself feel.
Day in day out I grow so discontented,
Yet still you somehow bear the same appeal.
I've been lonely but never alone.
This weight hangs over my injured pride,
briefly things seem clear,
In an instant I am
Blurred
skewed
G l a s s - e y e d.
Slowly I press forward,
Pieces dismembered along the way.
Pulling through monotony,
in hope of a better day.
Insecure 
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