The Broken

There’s a hope with each new connection for sustainability, understanding, affection, love; the sum parts that make a whole, not the parts themselves.

Sustainability without understanding is tolerance, passing each other as days begin and end with meager acknowledgment.

Understanding without sustainability is fleeting friendship, the kind where love bombs and fancy words bring a sense of hope that fades the instant distance starts calling.

Affection without love, whether professed as a way to obtain it, or fickle and in-the-moment only, when endorphins are high and words flow freely; bitter loneliness. A cycle many willingly repeat, hoping that sustainability and understanding will grow.

It doesn’t seem to in these situations, tunnel vision for lust and distance, come around again like a carousel after feeling the bite of reality.

We are the broken, incapacitated by beliefs about ourselves and others, what they should be in relation to our own damaged hearts.

We walk in broad day light with painted on smiles and canned responses, still searching for something that may not exist.

Deep down we want all of these, the whole, and searching is the only choice.

Emily Cloward ©

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