Shattered realities

Little splinters of what I once thought the world was continue to swirl around and around, when they cross my path I get stabhed. I feel the cold blood of a world lost and broken, trickling over my head and through my eyes. The wound is fresh again and I can't see through the film of red, pain is all there is. I yearn for a reality that doesn't define everything, that doesn't bind me small in packages of perception. Where are the magic words to dissolve the lines and make everything whole? Maybe some of the splinters will become a part of something much bigger. Something organic and alive instead of rigid and strong.