Objects would do

 A broom, a sewing machine and glue would do
My heart smashed against the floor
My eyes pregnant with tears
Seeking for the right spot in the puzzle
When visiting hours are over Reality comes knocking
The holes in my shoes tell the story of my soul

Deadly poison would do
Tongue dry as sand, head hot like a ticking bomb
Fingers trembling because it’s time for failure to hold the hands
Saliva on my hands, I swear I gave it my all
But I guess it wasn’t good enough to make the car jumpstart and move

A bucket of water would do
To clean the dirty reflection that pieces hate
To clean away the dumbness from the dominant organ
To clean away all the darkness in the spirit
To abort all the tears in the eyes
And finally to shut down all the lights and go to bed.

Thank You