Behold the tiny pieces of my soul,
lay bare before your eyes.
All the bits fit to make up me.
The flaws glow in the dark,
the beauty, purple and green.
The pain, soft white.
The talent vibrant blue.
The disease, my quiet death,
no not black, but orange.
I bare my self with honest paint.
All of these bits scatter.
like marbles on polished wood,
at the simple act of your touch.
I am shattered.
