How do I say I’m broken?
When there are bigger things to fix,
and before I’ve even spoken,
I’m the bottom of the list.
I’ve never said I’m troubled,
when my friends are troubled too
but the magnitude has doubled,
I’m an earthquake, breaking you.
I’m a catalyst, a fire,
a storm from overseas.
Now I’m caught between desire,
and the friends I aim to please.
I am broken, I’m perfection,
I’m a paradox of doubt.
Like a mirror hides reflection,
I’m the door with no way out.
I’m the graveyard of the living,
I’m the house of paper walls,
I’m the lover unforgiving,
I’m the phone that no one calls.
I don’t really have the words to express anything more behind the poem. I guess you can read Alone for a bit more loneliness