Them

They scratch and poke 

At the surface of pain

While binding and stitching

With thread of support built out of steel

Seeing that they are Provoking yet Healing.

They are always lurking 

with an almost comforting shadow.

Staring at a broken mirror

Knowing each crack is being 

shoved and pushed together by them.

And only by them.

They build me up 

Feeling their hope in me 

soak up and cement my shattered mirror.

Want to look at the mirror and only say,

“I can be a better person.”

Pulling out each word for them. 

When looking ahead 

Seeing their steps farther ahead 

Knowing their in my grasp 

Just hoping to switch roles 

So I can lift them up high   

Just so they can say, 

“I’m that better person”