I have a thing for broken things.
I'll hold onto something forever thinking that i'll fix it but maybe i like things broken too much.  or maybe some things are more beautiful broken, even if its got more sharp corners and rough edges.
or maybe i just don't care enough to go all the way.


Maybe, maybe all the bits and pieces are only looking for each other.  The pop tabs and the coins that sit in the gutter and the broken zipper pulls and rusty springs are all part of some bigger thing.  or at least they think they are.  and all i have to do is pick them up and take them home with the other bits and pieces, and they'll be happy.  like they've been waiting, just waiting on that sidewalk or sitting on that bench to find the other bits they belong with.  To become some part of something bigger.  so i pick them up and carry them with me, or take them home.  because i think, maybe they're looking for something.  And maybe, if i keep collecting them they'll find what they're looking for. maybe they'll learn to be whole again, to belong.

maybe then they'll teach me.