Pieces of Me

Only a handful of people 

have ever really known me. 


So when people have rejected me, 

they've only rejected pieces of me. 


Never the whole me.


You never met me,

but your rejection hurts just the same.


The pieces of me you despised,

those pieces fell away

or were buried deep inside

to avoid further refusal.


I've kept myself hidden for so long

that I don't even know 

who I am anymore.


My identity has all 

but disintegrated.


All these pieces 

rejected by everyone over time

making a mess in my mind. 


My thoughts are in chaos,

and I don't know what's

the real me at this point.

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