Mended

A time will come when we have to surrender to the obvious, but oblivious fact, that perhaps beneath the porcelain plain of our deprived expression, and somewhere behind the masquerades of our poker faces, and buried deep within good intentions...Perhaps perfection is just the perception of what glue looks like when a man is broken.

Perhaps the only ties that bind a broken end to the part of a mended whole, are smiles and graces of wounded man, who stitched himself together with copious hours of work, and managed to hide his tears with laughter in an effort to numb the pain. And the truth is, eventually we become so used the reparations being in process, that we forget we ever have repairs to complete. Or is it just that we become so comfortable in our own brokeness, that we don't realise that we still have time for repairs?

A time will come when we have to realise that we cannot fix a thing, unless we acknowledge that it is broken. But understand that no matter how broken, there's a difference between you, and truly being beyond repair.