I wake up laying on the floor, The cold air hitting my porcelain body. Feeling the sharp edges of my broken frame. Reaching my cracked arm out, grabbing the shards of my destroyed figure. Pulling them in, creating a pile of my former self. I reach into my chest cavity, where my heart should be and pull out a familiar bottle of glue. It’s old and used up, dried glue covering the cap, and the letters barely showing. I glue my pieces back together, figuring out the puzzle that is my own body. Starting with my skull, cracked open on the floor dumping out my stored tears. I finish gluing my other arm and legs and wait for the glue to dry. Staring into the small puddle of liquid emotions that I had stowed away for so long. The glue finally dries and I prop myself back up and limp back onto the worn target, where my pears practice their throws.