It's funny how you feel brittle sometimes,
Like your bones are barely fused together,
Like you're not walking but floating,
And with every step you're about to drop,
It's funny how it makes you laugh sometimes,
That the things you care about no longer matter,
Like true love or faith in humanity's standing,
And with each day's passing,
You're trying not to stop,
You know you won't stop,
Even as your bones break away,
And through the sorrow in every day's passing,
You won't stop,
Through the "evens" and despite the "despites",
Our brittle bones are all we've got,
Until we grow new ones,
Or healed fracture-lines make us strong.
© RTEMis