The Entry: Get Free

I fall apart,
Into my purest thoughts and emotions.
I fall apart,
More than most men should; so they say.
Sometimes my spirit buries itself beneath my sole,
And I know I have absolutely nothing (no one) but
the tweezers to pull it back up.
It’s lain there for over a decade.
Molten. Unhinged, from me.
For it is mine.
Sometimes I wish it wasn’t, but it is.
Like the caramel skin plastered and layered on it.