I remember when the world broke in,
To rip apart my soul,
For years after that one event,
I thought myself not whole,
My hours were spent with trying,
To fix it up with tape and glue,
Until one day i discovered
Everyone else was broken too,
Here we were with pieces,
Of ourselves in both our hands,
So fragile and so open,
That i began to understand,
Maybe I’d been greedy,
To want my soul all to myself,
When it could be a lot more helpful,
In the palm of someone else,
I leave part of me behind,
And collect all of the pieces,
Of others souls that i can find,
So when I’m meeting someone new,
It’s not just me they get,
But also tiny fragments,
Of all the others that I’ve met,
And my life began much bigger,
Now that it’s home to things so small,
And if this is what ‘’broken means
I do not mind at all.