COMPLETELY INCOMPLETE
How does one pick up broken pieces of one’s sanity without getting prick by the shattered pieces?
If I am broken, can I be fixed? Can I be as whole as I was before? Or, would there be snippets of me that could not be part of me anymore?
How can something be fixed to its wholeness when it was never even whole to begin with? When something incomplete shatters, when fixed, it will only be what it was – completely incomplete.
Where should I begin?
In a journey where there’s no turning back, would you still trot the road that is less traveled?
True happiness is found within, they say. But sometimes, even if you rummage through your being, happiness is something you can’t always find. All you see are demons inside you. Trying to break free,
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