Used Bare

As I step down,
to the bare minimum,
and last pages,
in my book of thought,
I begin to read,
what I have written,
and at that point I know.
I now understand,
what everyone sees.
What everyone sees,
and speaks nothing of.
I am heartbroken.
I am misplaced.
I am missing,
a couple marbles,
and probably,
some other parts.
And, they are still rolling.
All around me,
I can feel them,
still moving,
but I can't find them anywhere.
Empty hearted,
absent minded,
I have allowed myself,
to lose myself.
To lose what was me.
To let loose a heart,
that was never mended,
and set it burn,
for all lost.
So much lost.
To grow roses,
all around my lifeless self,
so as the thorns,
can be imbeded,
into my very being.
So I will be forever,
reminded that everything,
is still bitter.
To remind me,
of the pain and scars,
that I will always bear.
As I reached,
the bare minimum,
I found I was used up.