Broken

I'm broken.
When I move, I hear the clinking and crunching of all the broken pieces of my self. Even only breathing, I feel these shards rubbing against each other. Constant pain.

I just want to be held, tightly, as not to move, just for a moment. To feel whole again, not just all these pieces of myself scrambled together.
I want to be held, and, just for a moment, feel safe in this horrible world with my damaged self.

I miss the warmth of another body. The love in your eyes, shining a warm light towards the fragments of light inside me. I miss the gentle touch of your skin, reminding me that I'm not dead, neither my body nor my soul. I miss the smile reminding me of my beauty, of my strength. I miss your smell, reminding me that I'm not alone. Miss your voice encouraging me.

All I see, all I hear, are just my own head's lies, its monsters. Unworthy. Unlovable. Alone. Cold. Hurt. Broken. A million pieces.
And I'm wondering.. maybe..
But I don't want to go there. I know my head's lying.
And still.. still, I wonder.. Would death be kinder? Would I stop being broken? Cold? Alone? Would it even matter?

And I think of your touch, your smile.. and yet again, I'm not even sure if it's real. And I wonder..
How long until I don't know anymore what's real and what's in my mind? How long until I begin to believe these lies?

How long until I drown?