Moonlight ( A collection of poems)

Kintsugi

Some people think that pain refines

it embellishes beauty

That our hearts are just unrefined gold

waiting for the skilled hand of life's trade

That he spin's gold out of tears and blood

and forget that he dances on the grave of shells

of those who were the exception

The ones whose necks are imprinted with a strange design

Whose arms are scarred

Whose bodies are spilled over  like a glass of red wine

Does anyone care to ask about the exceptions?

The ones who don't manage to spin a room full of gold

Maybe they'll say they did not repeat pinterest quotes enough

they're unaware of the wisdom of the "universe"

Or maybe just maybe hearts will shatter before they melt

My Kintsugi heart shatters and the art of lacing the bruised edges

with any thing I can is a privilege anyone still living is lucky to have

I'm lucky I still dance and that my heart still thumps loudly

when she thinks of love be it a thing or a person

That even when I didn't see something worth salvaging for poetry did

Kintsugi:Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.