pieces of me

is the poets disease
bright eyes that don't gloss over
have to process everything it sees

inside me there's a little girl
with wide open doe eyes
and raina is the strongest one
who holds her when she cries

stiesas quiet shaky confidence
doesn't have much to say
she quiets all the others
when we decide to pray

(birth name) is what's left over
just a tired depleted shell
never feeling much of anything
or at least too tired to tell

just when a part of me
gets too tired to go on
someone else jumps in the front seat
but the rest are never gone

deep inside the parts of me
are all holding one another
in raina the scared little girl
has found herself a mother

because i hear their voices
you think i'm apt to kill and maim
you laugh because i'm different
i laugh because you're all the same