Fractured Connections

Amidst the clutter, a bottle of glue,

a savior in chaos, promising to renew,

I knocked over memories, spilled out like sand,

a moment of mishap, the past in my hand.

This sticky reminder of fragments undone,

that seeks to hold tight, what’s lost, what’s begun,

yet life’s pieces scatter, like leaves in the breeze,

it’s tough to keep close what time tends to seize.

As I brush the residue left on my skin,

a metaphor lingers, where healing begins,

not all can be fixed, some scars must be shown,

there’s beauty in cracks, a story of my own.