We are all broken
in various pieces,
a puzzle of insecurities
and family scars.

We all burry stories
we do not tell
and secrets
we take to the grave.

Within our genes
a family history itches
from centuries below.

We repeat.
Until we do not.

all we long for
in our individual,
endearing way
is to be loved.

Why then is something
so evident
so hard to achieve?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s