Patch them up with your smile, gaze, laugh.
Love
that has never been there
nor ever will be
as long as this glass is half empty.
Cover up the cracks with some words,
sticky with a facade that’s strong enough
to hold it together
but breaks when used.
Used like the shoes on your feet,
the holes in your socks that let the frost
bite your toes.
Used like your body uses motion
to tell a lie
that’ll always be inhaled.
Not because it sounds true,
but because the words taste so good
and for a second
this glass feels half full.
But this glass
is still broken,
leaking till empty.
A feeling it knows all too well.
Never to be
whole.