Faces

I am shattered pieces of glass on the floor

Each shard reflecting a different person

Which one is real?

Which one is saved?

Some are hard and cold and empty

Some are coated in a gelled protectant

Some are bright and warm and happy

Some are alive, some are dead

The ache in my chest screams again

The only sign of a cry for help

I can help literally anyone else

Why can’t I help myself

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