I wish I had the words to say
what must and may never be said.
We build these walls,
and for what?
When we tear them down,
and all is for not?
Push each other to the ground,
and why?
Because we are scared of being close
to another, we lie,
and say it is the form of us
which is broken.
Say it is the slumbering beast inside
which has awoken.
We tell these truths to ourselves
until they are bent.
Turned to lies,
it becomes apparent:

We've both led hard lives.
Been faced with obstacles and adversity,
and still we strive,
to do more,
to hate less,
to love more.
We try.
And by some small chance we met
and shared our broken selves
just so that we could finally let
the other feel loved.
And so it goes,
that time comes to pass
and no matter the material,
it shapes all things at last.

So I look at this as I do anything else,
a test of patience and of will,
the kind of test we have not failed yet.
Two broken people with broken lives
and broken hearts leading each other
through a broken world full of broken arts,
holding on to a broken love with broken hands,
expressing it with broken words from a broken mind,
and taking each broken day
one at a
one at a
one at a
time.