Jars

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My life is an empty room,
Cold, dark and sinister,
With nothing but an immense amount of jars,
Lying on old, dark, and chipped wood.
In each jar is something different,
Representing a lost girl who struggles each day,
No matter what I do, I just can't find my way.

The contents of the first jar, is only just a start,
And carefully placed inside it is my deep and meaningful heart.
Its cracked and unpolished appearance may fool you, thats for sure,
But don't let it deceive you,
Theres always something more.
My heart is full of jealousy, anger, hurt, and love,
All these things I feel so much, but, it just wont rise above.

As I carefully screw on the lid, and move onto another,
While lifting it up high, important memories do flutter.
Some I wish to remember, others I try to forget,
But, I'll always posses my deceiving mask,
for I wouldn't want others to come in contact,
I'm trying my best to bare it and cope,
I don't need others to stand there and moan.

The next jar I come across on this cold, and dirty floor,
Is a jar full of silver, silver and nothing more.
Never does it let me down, I come to it with a pout, or a frown.
It tells me: "girl just give me a try, I'll make you feel better, with me you don't hide",
And while I'm in my euphoric, forgetful state,
Nothing matters, I've become a blank slate.
The only thing it leaves behind is small red lines that will soon say goodbye.

The other jars are scattered,broken, and battered,
this is how life feels nothing is ever surreal,
so I'll lay in my dirty floor surrounded by slivers and jars,nothing more,
utill life's decay turns to me,
until it takes me away and finally allows me to see.
Then my jars can be discovered,
Until then I just can't be bothered.