Broken Pieces

I hope that this speaks to people

Dressed in a robe, dark and dreary; clothed with cloth and billowed with silk. A mess to sight, uneven, unassuming, unheard for we wallow in our past. Our mind a spindle, threading thoughts and sewing burden as we piece together who we are; the brokenness of who we are. Our mind a gift, we wish we could return, replace, and reconcile; for what we have now seems unfixable, unacknowledgeable and fake. Darkness surrounds, like the dead of night, suffocating, drawing close, taking every last breath, that we can’t afford for it to take. So many near, but never more alone have we felt, as in this fast-paced world, we stand still, stuck in an instance, the trap of our own mind. A secret we mustn’t tell, they say to us, it isn’t true, everything is okay, for this isn’t you; but never more have we felt more burdened from the mind that was destined to protect us. So, we say to all, that it is okay to fall, to break-down to crawl, not always must we stand tall; brokenness isn’t a curse, but an aspect of life, we all must endure. This isn’t a choice, nor a failing at life, we didn’t want this, nor would we want it on anyone; bad things happen, and our lives feel like they may fall, but our broken pieces can be mended and we can be made whole.

Author's Note

Please help me to become a better write. I really appreciate your responses