The Blueprints Of Falling Apart

A free-writing exercise that turned into something more.

No one tells you how it’s done

How do you even know

If you’re doing it right?

When everything is going wrong,

At least

You should be capable

Of breaking down correctly

There’s these seven stages of grief, but

Where you are

Doesn’t even seem to apply

They all tell you to

Hold it together

Yet no one supplies you with the glue

And maybe you could if you had enough hands

But you’re crumbling

From all corners

All sides

Places you didn’t even know that you had

An unknown force rips out all of your seams and

It’s all you can do to keep from

Exposing yourself

It’s not your fault

You’re naked

Yet you still shoulder all the blame

The End

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