Shattering

No one told me that my mind was putty in your hands

I was malleable.

It didn't even hurt when my mind slipped through
your fingers.

You made me,
And bent me with your image in mind,

But my mind
it was never really mine was it? Was it!?

I wait like a treasure or a trinket,

You brag to others about how you made me,

Was it even a conquest if I didn't struggle?

Now I wait under the light of strangers' praise,

I beg and beg to be broken. To be knocked off the shelf!

But I...I can't scream!

If my mind isn't mine then neither is my mouth,

I am not myself.

I beg to be completely and utterly shattered,

To be scattered on the floor,
I'd rather be in pieces,
Than be whole and in your hands,

So please...

Please!

PLEASE!

Shatter me!

Scatter me!

Break me and make me beautiful!

Because once I am broken
I won't be yours anymore.

But wait--before you shatter me,
before you scatter me into a mosaic
of kaleidoscope chaos--How do I know?

How do I know if the thoughts
of my mind are mine?

When my mind isn't mine anymore

Who wants to be shattered?

You or Me?