An exercise in character

I feel like a part of me is broken. 
And I can't sit still. 
And I can't stay here
with people who know me.
Because they see me. 
And if they see through me
they'll see there's nothing left. 
And then I might float away completely. 

I sometimes dream of walking out into the ocean and letting myself be dragged out, pulled away, letting the waves crash and bash and batter and shatter until my body breaks completely.

And then the fish
will eat my broken heart,
they'll suck my eyes, 
and choke on my hair.
And I will be no more.

And I won't see his poor little, broken little, fractured little body every time I inhale, close my eyes, exhale.

But as long as I keep moving,
maybe I can dream someone else,
think someone else,
be someone else
whose heart is whole,
whose eyes are clear,
who feels hope in the world.