You've got to kiss your own wounds sometimes.
I know, I know.
We all want someone to love, someone to love us back.
Every last one of us.
But there isn't always a pair to be made, because that's just how the world is.
If you find the right one, they can heal you.
But after years of pain and regret,
When you only have yourself,
You've got to give in and say that you're sick of it.
Because if you don't, things won't last long.
They'll fall away.
Once you're honest with yourself,
You can pick your pieces up,
Dust them off, polish them,
Then begin to put them back together.
Puzzles can be hard to solve.
The ones with just 100 or 500 pieces are kind of troublesome, I must admit.
But every last one of us,
We have more pieces than you can count in a lifetime,
So we're hard to put back together.
But it can be done, I promise.
One day, you'll gather every last piece,
And you'll know where each one goes.
Every piece is you,
And you can be mended.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch of Wonder
PoetryA book of poetry filled with thoughts, experiences, and emotions. "As I walk down the slippery street, My face streaming with tears, The sadness can barely be sustained. But you suddenly kiss away my fears, My dear umbrella in the rain."
