Superglue.

I was whole, once. At least I think so. Just because I can't remember not feeling like a mixed up jig-saw puzzle doesn't mean I wasn't ever a complete entire unit... Right? Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I was born this way; Seven pounds, six ounces of a broken soul. Destined to always know how to treat others... But not how to treat myself. Created with a mind-set embedded to do right, except when it comes to me. I at least like to imagine I'll come across The Superglue that will stick these scattered pieces of a girl Back together.