Missing Parts

"Missing Parts"

I’ve been beat down silently,
crying violently,
been tried too much, like... "who you want me to be?"

“Give more, Sam, you’re so strong,”
beautiful anomaly.

Scrutiny—a lofty thing—
but I’m hanging on by a string.

Pinocchio done poked his nose too close;
I’m hanging on all his ropes.

I ripped it off and bent,
like I whittled a rose—
bouquets for amateurs,
pulling strings that leave ligatures.

In vineyard yards made of withered starts,
little hearts can grow into bigger scars.

Unlistened talks, unfinished walks—
I’m trying to be whole,
but I have missing parts.

He was the Tinman,
And I gave him my heart.