Strange day...and Tosh wrote a poem.

Fragmented young to protect myself;
In pieces, safe from everybody else.
'Cause they won't seek what they can't find.
Shattered we could stay alive.

They can't hurt who isn't there;
Another lie, our cross to bare.
Found our pieces, they rearranged;
Become a someone they could change.
Someone they could crack and break.
They prayed the lord our souls to take.

Found escape in a cookie jar,
This broken biscuit, yes we are.
Pull us left and throw us right,
but 'cause we're already broken, we'll be alright.
Free from the pain, we lock within,
and shatter more to save our skin.
Then sacrifice our daily bread
to float so freely in our head.

Broken, we were everywhere
Yet glued in place by those that dared
to throw us down and hold us back.
Nothing more than one more crack
in our facade; now our disease
The challenge now, to find some peace
And find a way to break again
so we can breathe the peace back in.

Running now, and not too sure
who we run from anymore.
Options now to self discover
a self that's not like many others
A self that split us up in fear
that something wicked was once near.
Now we stare back in the mirror,
squinting, meant to see us clearer.
Running from ourselves we see
the many pieces who are me.

We call her "us" to keep her free,
and fractured her again to flee.
To gain control and realign
the pieces they weren't meant to find.
But seekers they were and find us they did;
No matter how we tried, and hid.

Fragmented young and saved ourselves.
Got found and arranged by everyone else.
Now it's our turn to take us back,
and fill in all the jagged cracks.
And they'll still seek me once I'm found.
They'll raise me up to pull me down.
But thankful I will always be
for all the little shattered Me's
Who fight the wars and lead us through
and give us hope and faith renewed.

These broken biscuits will survive.
We broke ourselves to stay alive.