They never know. They never do. They only speak on impulse.

They cannot seem to comprehend the motives for their insults.

 

A chuckle here. A giggle there, to break what has been broken.

They pour their salt into the wounds of words that have been spoken.

 

But time goes on. The cows come home. The sky has gotten clearer.

However, one can always see the cracks in broken mirrors