Torn into pieces and scattered around,

Some flew away from me,

Some remained with me,

Some came to be anew,

No idea of what’s going on,

Grilled and grinded,

Left with no other option.

Pinned down by pain,

Pricked by guilt,

Pressed by fear,

Paused by force,

Poisoned by depression,

Poise imbalanced,

Punctured ego,

Psycho to the core.

Purple patch, will it blossom once?

Or,

Photoshop -the only option to hide reality?

Potion will save me, I thought.

Later, I understood,

There’s just one and only way.

Pick myself up,

Piece by piece,

Put them together,

Pristine me will be constructed,

Not to be valued by anyone,

But for me!

Why this process?

I questioned.

To push into the prix,

Of Formula One race of life,

To usher you to new boundaries,

To promise you a better life.

Certain things, you need to live,

To discover until I prepare you more,

And unfold unto you!

I smile at the last thought.