Monday, December 16, 2013
A Broken Me and You
I feel sad listening to the tinkling of the broken pieces inside you as you speak. I can tell, I hear the same sound inside of me sometimes. Perhaps mine have dulled or I've gotten so used to the sound in me that it fails to resonate now. Perhaps. Or I have simply forgotten. But there's that sound again, in you. And I understand how painful the edges must be of the jagged parts that you are hiding. Perhaps I am the only person who will ever know what it's like. The only one who can understand the need to move despite how each painful step jars those broken pieces time and again. I hear you. And I feel sad listening to the tinkling of the broken pieces as you speak. Let's sit in our silence for a moment. We don't need the words really. I hear you.