Unstitched

The seams of my brain are coming apart stitch by stitch.
I'm a cliche and am disintegrating into the mist.
I believe I have held too loosely to things, and the little I had is drifting.
Drifting to God know's where...the land of the pathetic I suppose.

I fear I have been lost in myself for years.
Where I once saw a line in the sand, I now see only erosion.
Where I once could declare who I was, I somehow seem to know less or
...care less.
I am bored with myself, my aches, my thoughts.
In these present moments I see only comparison and envy, and all the qualities that I don't possess.

I've been here before, and have come back bedecked and bedazzled-
what now seems like a past reincarnated and lovely self...
Shouldn't I be farther in this life by now?
I'm supposing the Maker needs to rip and frazzle for a reason.
I'm surprised by how much I've seen of him lately and I wait in suspicion of his workings.
My ability to trust has been shaken again, because I have been shaken.
I feel as though I have no beginning or end.
I am a vague mess, at best conspicuous
at worst ...invisible.

Broken?

Over the last week I have heard two different men say, "Everyone knows they are broken." I did not prompt this response, they just came up in the context of what was being discussed. And it's been nagging at me...really? Maybe I am off or maybe my definition of "knowing ones self as broken" looks very different from theirs. I'm still trying to figure it out at the moment and don't have the energy to do so just yet. But I would like to hear your thoughts, definition, etc. Got any?