Broken.

We hold a little bit of broken, you and I…

Us all.

Stitched together differently, we hide our pain in different creases,

anxiety, depression, drugs – we choose different releases then belittle the rest.

different wounds and different causes,

but all our blood still red.

 

We hold a little bit of broken, you and I,

and my broken hurts you and yours hurts me at times,

and we cry and laugh simultaneously at times.

This life is beautiful but it hurts at times,

and what seems to define this pain is time.

The bad times, the time it takes to heal,

the time it takes to reach goals that seem decades away,

the times we lay awake all night and worry about the time because we have work in the morning and so there is really no time for all this overthinking –

but where did the time go?

 

We hold a little bit of broken you and I…

Us all.

We cannot escape it.

Just like we cannot help but laugh in those moments where we really shouldn’t laugh,

like when someone trips over and hopes you didn’t see,

or your parents telling you off for something stupid,

or you remember something funny in the middle of an exam…

We can’t escape feelings,

So, we hold a little bit of broken, you and I…

Us all.

 

Written in 2017 ©

 

 

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