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montanaPoems
I used to think that the penalty for devastating loss was a metaphorical hole in your heart. And though that hole made you broken, something would come along to fill that hole. All things broken could be made new again. I know now, that is not true. A hole in your heart, cannot be filled. When you lose a piece of yourself, that piece is gone. Forever. And no amount of love, or support, can restore you to shiny, new condition. But that is not to say that the broken cannot be healed. For though a heart can never be made whole again, It can be made larger. You can never replace the missing pieces, But you can always collect more. And though more surface area leaves more opportunity for holes, It also changes the size of the existing ones relative to what's left. You will never not miss what you have lost. You will never not feel burdened by your brokenness. But it will get easier.
0
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
Holes
I used to think that the penalty for devastating loss was a metaphorical hole in your heart. And though that hole made you broken, something would come along to fill that hole. All things broken could be made new again. I know now, that is not true. A hole in your heart, cannot be filled. When you lose a piece of yourself, that piece is gone. Forever. And no amount of love, or support, can restore you to shiny, new condition. But that is not to say that the broken cannot be healed. For though a heart can never be made whole again, It can be made larger. You can never replace the missing pieces, But you can always collect more. And though more surface area leaves more opportunity for holes, It also changes the size of the existing ones relative to what's left. You will never not miss what you have lost. You will never not feel burdened by your brokenness. But it will get easier.
montana
Written by
montana
American
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
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