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
