My life is caving in;
And I can’t tell what is unreal, anymore.

You give someone a piece of yourself,
it gets returned broken, in crumpled wrapping paper.

A Note saying:
RETURN TO SENDER
SORRY,
IT DIDN’T FIT.

Like you’re a garment they can keep in the wardrobe,
Bringing out one day and realising they never really wore.

What do you do, when you
don’t fit
Into somebody else’s master plan?

And what do you do when you
lost yourself
somewhere on the road?

 

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