We are surrounded by the broken,
Fractions of people walk street to street looking for pieces to make them whole once again.
A false hope, almost humorous to the realist sense of mind, corrupts small children that one day if they search long enough, they will find love.
But what if the searching is in vain?
The girls who claim they still believe in fairytales, looking for their ‘prince charming’ claiming the innocents of a Childs wonder,
All lies and deception of cleverly disguised as intent for love.
Corrupted by lust and greed, we slowly sink to the apathetic depths of self loathing that is left when the fling is over.
Who we are, is not who we want to be.
Who we are is the broken, and we start to realize that our beings are organic.
When we finally realize core ache of the pain that has been tormenting us, we can diagnose it.
The pieces that were broken off were meant to be left behind.
It’s the skin that needs to be scraped and wounded before it can learn to heal.
We are not manmade with needs of glue and putty,
But those of a godly decent that gave us the power to heal by our own will.
We were given these amazing powers to defy the tragic falls we may take as we walk through life.
We are given memories to exchange the piece of us we leave, for a lesson to take.
And those still blinding themselves with the thought that one day their prince will whisk them away,
They are living a delusion
Cinderella was never looking for love in her step mothers’ chimney.
Sleeping beauty didn’t plan to go into a coma awaiting a man to kiss her.
Bell was being held hostage for god sake!
If you find yourself feeling broken and waiting for this moment of sudden clarity and completeness,
you might as well be crawling over broken glass.