I've found the key, but it doesn't fit the lock.
I've rattled this cage to make dents and see that as progress,
But I'm just as stuck as when I was born.
Maybe I'm shattered beyond repair.
I've been gluing myself back together,
But maybe there's too little fusing--
Too little for someone to love.
Too different for someone to relate.
Healing means people leaving, which means being left behind.
When they leave, they don't look back.
So here we go again.
I don't just use my spoons or lose my spoons,
But you burn them until I'm branded and then toss them aside.
Then you wonder why I can't serve you.
I decide I'm done.
I shape a shield, but I'm a fool pretending I'll let it protect me.
You call me out on my shield, and I come running back.
I'm back to being your servant.
I grow stronger.
I build a better shield, but you're too fast.
You claw at me until I'm bleeding out,
Then, put a bandage on and cradle me.
But I see you.
I grow wiser.
I craft a helmet, but you have a sword.
You slash through me, but claim it's the other guy's sword,
So it's his fault, not yours.
I'm too tired.
I'm back at your feet.
Maybe one day, I can design a suit of armor.
One you can't get through.
One that will let me live.
One that will let me run
And you can't catch me.
