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[connors-poetry]

**STAINED GLASS**

Staring up, my neck hurts

Lively colours shine upon a filthy floor

Lies make truth so much worse

The tainted glass shrouds our war

Warped figures stand tall and proud

Father, mother, brother, me.

In the colours I begin to drown

This is not my family

[connors-poetry]

**Untitled #1**

Puzzle pieces, scattered

across the dirt ridden floor,

No one knows where they

Fall into place.

Everyone is here,

But not for each other.

I’ve searched,

Perhaps for far too long,

For pieces that’ll fit with me.

And despite my efforts,

Every connection I thought i’ve made

Turned out to be with the wrong piece,

Leaving my edges ridged and more unfitting than before.