We shine gold in our examples of human tenacity, picking up the pieces. We are the rebirth, the resurrection of shattered lives. Us, the broken, the wabi-sabi. We are marked. Our gold scars and shiny coats of lacquer make us rigid when our joints should give. We are revealed by those who impact our lives and roll off like drops of water. We are revealed by the impacts that open the old scars. We are revealed by the impacts that find our weak spots between the golden cracks. We are revealed, and we seek our new level as if the gold were lead and the new mass sinks us deeper to find those who would break us, to be covered in the muck, to be hidden from further inspection. We want to be broken, to stay broken, to be ignored, to stay in pieces.
April Poem 4: NaPoWriMo
therichardbraxton 