Something broken

She cannot put a finger

on why, but there is something there

deep inside

broken and rusted

despite being encased in honey

and a touch of lovely

love.

She knows that the two parts must connect

come together and securely fit

in a mechanical motion

to produce an organic product

1/2 of her and 1/2 of him

that’s all the recipe calls for

and yet she cannot put her finger on it.

The two come as one well-maintained machine,

but nothing is ever produced or created.

She does not know why,

simply feels the bareness

on the inside

longing to know why she cannot fix

the broken pieces deep inside

and she just feels

a touch of something kinda, something that is, something where the;

sadness grows.

 

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