tiles

no filter. i don't want to be this vulnerable in my writing but this is how vulnerable in my writing.

i’m sitting on a public bathroom floor. tiles have held souls like mine from breaking completely and falling through. rest my head on my shoulder, trying to find the same warmth I tried finding in them in myself now. i’m putting myself back together again. pieces of me they still have, I should probably ask for them back. meet me at my place and bring my sanity back. scrolling through my contacts and calling them each telling them I can’t do this anymore. finding bits and pieces of him in them, put my sanity back together like a jigsaw puzzle. pieces lost, pieces missing, pieces I may never be able to find. put them back in me so I can feel whole again please. do I even know what feeling whole is like without them? half a heart gone my other half is still here, i think.