The past is gone

and looking backwards

doesn’t matter,

if I only cracked,

or if I shattered.

Every moment after

I’m ashamed.

Moving through disaster

isn’t easy,

at least it’s not for me.

 

We collected ourselves

along the way.

Experiences make us

who we are today,

the world builds us up

to a place

where we can tumble off the way

and break.

It isn’t easy;

it’s okay.

 

So many of us

are just

pretty, broken things,

but we keep on

living through the days

that take us down,

just to get up again.

 

A crooked smile,

a missing limb,

a chipped tooth,

a patchwork grin.

The world’s a little safer

when you have a friend

to help you put yourself

back together again.

 

Another scream,

another crash.

One hit the wall

all hope is dashed.

We rush to help

another from the ash.

 

What strange blessings

these days can bring.

Oh, so many

pretty, broken things.

Angels with broken wings.

We can be remade as anything.

 

 

HG – 2021