around and around

Things change in an instant. Everything changes instantly. It doesn't seem right. One second, one conception of my life and future, the next second, it's shattered into a billion teeny tiny pieces. I'm on my hands and knees forever collecting as many pieces as I possibly can, because I need each one, and the pieces are razor sharp. And I'm using my bare hands. No matter how much they hurt, I search for more. I'm obsessed with finding more, because what else can I do. When I gather them all, I realize they can't be put back together. And that's sad.