Call me, nostalgic if you will…
I’d kept many broken things with me throughout my life, first, it was, that shattered porcelain (what I liked her better than my other porcelain!!!), and, sleeping with her, despite her brokenness, had, cut my hands, given me too many gnashes to count, and, I’d, stained my bedsheets with the blood I’d, “produced” because of “her”, until I simply got too tired, waking up in the morn, with my own blood on the sheets, then, I’d, decided, to toss her out!
The broken things I’d kept, some of my no-longer-work thumb drives, I guess, some part of me still believed, that one day, the things I’d written on them, that’s gone already, will somehow, as if, by MAGIC, return back to me again.
The broken things I’d kept, you, would be the biggest, I suppose, I should’ve, put you out by the curbs, but I didn’t, I just, didn’t feel right, throwing you out, even AFTER you’d, tried to break me too! The broken things I’d kept, why, do I need to, keep them around? As a reminder, of my FUCKED up past? But, I don’t need a reminder of those, I am, living PROOF of it!
And so, last night, I’d, cleaned my place out, of ALL the broken things I’d, kept through all the years of life, and, took everything OUT…
Now I am waking up, each and every single day, with NOTHING that’s, already broken, and, I’m ready, for my brand new days, each and every single day here.