Fragmented

This poem describes how I am wanted only for a short while, but never truly needed.

Fragmented.

Used to being used, I am a vessel of sorts.

With so much to offer, there are seekers of healing, love, lust or pride in the glory of attaining a trophy.

Never celebrated as a whole but rather revered for a part of a whole which is magnified to compensate for the whole.

Enter... Exit... Repeat.

A new soul, a temporary connection, so pure and so intense like a matchstick ignited, blazing for a short time, however fleeting;

I have learnt to appreciate these momentary embers of love for holding on to a burning match too long only ever burns my fingertips.

-An occurrence I have known all too well.

Now accepted, the truth that the loves and connections in my life are fleeting, intense ignitions of light in the dark, 

I mostly left in the dark;

For once shown the light, my students no longer need their teacher.

Enter... Exit... Repeat.

A tired cycle, perpetually spinning, however, I am not allowed to become drunk for that would be a gift.

I grow tired of the constant inconsistency, however, through it I smile, I pull my shoulders back and walk as though I am floating.

Too many depend on the energetic grace I emit for me to drop the vibration even for a moment.

Enter... Exit... Repeat.

Never fully needed but rather wanted, for certain reasons, favours or attributes.

Never needed but wanted; 

Fragmented.