I am shoved into the room full of broken things, of things to shattered for society’s eyes. I have become one of those broken things, unworthy to be graced by the warmth of society. Time ticks on, the everlasting continuum in this world. There is one clock in the room, for you cannot break time, but only the display we show to make ourselves feel like the controllers of things we cannot control. Seconds tick away in my head, until those fall into minutes and minutes into hours. Until months have passed, and I am still broken within the room of broken things. If only I could be free, of these shadows, of locked doors the silent sentries watching the things no one else wants to watch. Boarded up windows block sunlight, and suffocate the air within from the air without. Some days, the shadows throw another broken thing into the room, letting in the aroma from the outside world. Eventually though, time makes me an old, forgotten thing, dusty with the remnants of dreams long gone. New things join the collection, at first gleaming against the faceless despair that time holds, eventually dulling into the realization that once you're broke, you cannot glue the pieces back together to regain the gleam of youth. My only wish is that I could unlock the lock, and escape back into society. Not as the person I was when I broke, but as a new thing with the scars of the past burning my mistakes into my memory, into my future. If only I could run through the sun, soaking the rays into my system like a leaf in spring. If only I could roll in the grass, free from the room, with the ability to live in a house with neighbors, within a society of everyone caring about the well being of the people next to them. If only the door would unlock, and I could be the first of the broken things to break free from the chains of darkness and live within the light. But I remain one of the broken things, and time continues to tick into years until years become a life. And I make a life out of being a broken thing, locked in the room of timeless loss.