You held me together.
I am a paper chain of dolls, so delicate.
So frail.
You could tear me up with ease.
You held me together.
I tear up so easily.
So delicate. Not dainty.
(I’m anything but dainty).

You held me together.
Like pins on a dress makers dress,
without them, I’m a mess.
You held me together.
You promised forever.
Forever and a day.
But you left me
and I am not ok.

You held me together.
I’m like a worn old sock on a washing line,
held on tight by a lone wooden peg.
I am not fine.
You held me together.
Im blown about by the wind,
rained on, trampled on in the mud.
This will not come out in the wash.

You held me together.
You never said it would be easy.
You never said it would be so hard.
My heart hurts every single moment
of every single day.
And I am not ok.

You held me together.
Then took me apart.
Bit by bit, part by part.
Pieces of my heart, my soul, my mind.
You used to hold me together,
but I’ve lost some of my parts,
torn apart and thrown away.

I don’t need you to hold me together.
I just need to be ok.