Faces
By Kiraa
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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