Broken

Haiku

Sometimes I see the broken pieces of memories looking at me. Sometimes, I go looking for them. I can’t help but think that there is a corner in my mind where all those broken pieces reside. It’s okay as long as they stay there. But if and when they start to occupy the other spaces inside the mind, then sifting through them becomes a rather unpleasant experience.

For now, I prefer to tag this corner of my mind as poetry and type the brokenness in short and long lines. Maybe, one day it won’t feel heavy anymore. The senseless words that pop out of my mind somehow make sense when I build them home on a piece of paper.

Somewhere between the broken shards of memories and the now, life is happening. Something to write about tomorrow, perhaps.

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