With numb fingers, you strum the melody that's
Stuck in your head like a broken record.
You pray to the heavens to keep you grounded,
You have yet to find that special something.
Believing your heart is made of paper-
Shredded into a million pieces and
spread out upon the earth.
Searching for years,
Missing that one tiny piece
To make yourself whole again.
But you tap
And you hum,
And you dance to the beat
Of that song stuck on repeat
Inside your head-
From the paper heart
You hold in your hand.