October 19, 2010


There are broken things all around me.

Broken hearts, broken dreams, broken people.

Everywhere I look ....

things are broken.

My son's brain ... it never even formed properly...

It is broken.

My daughter's confidence, her sense of self, her sense of family ....

All broken.

My own dreams, my own heart ....


I am bending down, trying to pick up the pieces.

But things keep breaking.

And I only have two hands.

When do the pieces become too numerous to pick up?

When do things become so shattered that they can never be put back together?

I don't know.

But I am still trying.

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