It's been a million years,
Since my organs made of glass,
Cracked and broke,
And left me marooned,
On a sinking island,
In a sea of tiny pieces.
They stick into my skin,
As I walk with bare feet.
I have no broom,
To sweep them away.
It stabs deep,
And I stop walking.
I'm stuck,
And I am hurt.

This was originally about a health issue which I can't seem to get rid of that I have been struggling with for quite some time, but then it just sort of... I dunno, it's probably meaningful somehow but at this point I can't even really remember (why am I almost always writing these when it's almost absurdly late and I really should be sleeping or something if I want to have a life tomorrow? XD) what I was trying to say in the first place. Probably something about how I feel stuck and stranded because it never gets any better, and it hurts me emotionally and cripples my life. Yay? XD