When you broke me I thought that was it; that I could live with half the pieces missing. I tried not to notice that my heart beat a little slower, and my blood coursed a little cooler. I tried not to notice that my face forgot how to smile, and my eyes forgot how to shine.
When you broke me I thought I would be ok; with only bits of me to remember. Even though tears seemed closer than laughter, and the sun never did shine when I was around. Even though my fingers ached from a feeling of loneliness and emptiness.
When you broke me I thought it was a beginning; and all beginnings were better with pain. I forgot about happiness and contentment, instead I only knew sadness and regret. I forgot about stepping forward, and could only find myself falling backwards.
When you broke me I was a ragdoll thrown away; no little child to claim me from the wreckage. And I knew it was all about my ineptness, my unwillingness to change for you. And I knew I could blame all the blackness on the fact I didn’t know how to catch the sun.
When you broke me I crumbled; but you didn’t notice cause you drifted far away. You never did look back as the river took you, like I was just an island worth forgetting. You never did stop and turn, like I was an emotion best left with all the rest of the ones you didn’t need.
But it happened, in a way, without me expecting it. I slowly began to glue myself back together, following the breadcrumbs I trailed behind me when I took your hand. Looking for the me that was whole, before you started chipping away at the bits you didn’t like. It took moments, ages, eternity, but there I was, shining perfect, me. And I pulled myself together, lifted myself up, dusted myself off and laughed; because I realized I was never really the one who was broken, it was always you that could never really fit yourself in to the puzzle that was me.
– Tegan Thuss