Repair.

How often do we fix what is broken? Broken nails grow back. Broken bones heal. Bruises fade away.

Broken glass ... Is broken glass. Swept away and double bagged to be tossed out in Monday's trash.

How often do we discard valuable items? Pennies we pass on the street, as they are seen near worthless. Water. As we let the sink flow while we are not even near. We waste valuable resources. Why?

When is it acceptable to throw something out? When a paper plate has been reused enough to barely hold they weight of a hotdog bun? When my mom notices the hole on the toe of my sneakers and she insists that they be replaced.

Do you understand?

I don't think you do.

When is it ok to let go..

When is it ok to move on.

Our friendship, our relationship..

It's over.

It has fallen apart.

I don't know when it's ok to say ok, I'm done.

What scenario does this on fall under?

Our relationship is no good.

I don't want it to be fixed.

Maybe it can be, but why should it be?

Do we glue the broken glass back together just to see it shatter once more?

Our relationship is worthless.

Not to be given away, but thrown away.

Nothing will ever be the same.

It can be, you say?

But it won't be.

How often is a mended tear considered "just like it was when you bought it"?

Only to be torn again and again in the same spot.

Our relationship isn't the same.

Don't you understand?

Things change.

You tell me, "things change. People change. Weather can change. Lots of things change. but that doesn't mean they don't end up right back where they started."

You don't understand.

You admit, "i messed up. I'm admitting it and I'm sorry. I want you back. forget all the other stuff. I just need you back."

I simply reply, "you never lost me."

But you did.

I'm not yours anymore.

You have to let me go.

I have slipped away into an entrance only place and I'm here. With no way out.

I'm sorry. But you must let me go.

How often do we fix what's broken?

How often do we throw out what is no good?

I'm the clock. That couldn't keep ticking. The antique you couldn't let go. You dragged me to repair shops, replaced batteries, and took me apart yourself. Because maybe if you knew me better ... And knew how I felt deep down inside, then maybe you could fix this.

But you can't.

Your shops can't fix this.

Your batteries can bring us back, to only let us die. As well as you know me, you can't fix me.

And you can't fix this.

Our friendship, our relationship..

It has died.

It's gone.

And you must learn to let go.

Don't fix what ain't broke,

Don't keep what ain't good.

Move on. And let me go.