Many a time we throw away things that are broken. We are taught from the very beginning especially in Indian households to never keep something broken in the house as it’s not considered auspicious.
We care so much about materialistic things, forgetting most of the time that we might be broken too.
My heart is a stranger in my own body now. I don’t recognize it anymore. I just know it’s there but I know it’s not mine now. It’s broken, bruised, and ruptured altogether.
What am I to do with it? Throw it or just not acknowledge the fact that it’s severed. I’m at fault for not taking care of it, I’m at fault for not protecting it, I’m at fault to bring it out in the world where people just walked all over it not considering how shattered I would be.
It won’t be the same as before, but I’ll have to pick up the broken pieces and fix them. In the end, I know for a fact that it’s broken but it’s still mine.
Not a blogger 
sing for the day
in your own style and way
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