That Broken Woman

                   

 The most beautiful amongst us all seem to be slightly broken, women especially.

The ones worth knowing are sometimes beyond repair.

A broken guitar with weak strings but deep inside you know could still play amazingly.

Just read her, learn her, love her. Don’t try to make sense of her past, or predict her future.

Most of us fools attempt to fix her.

Who she was, is not who she is and is certainly not who she would be.

You’re not meant to understand her entirely. She is not sure who she is either.

Let her sing her song, dance her tune, pen down her own poetry.

Watch and enjoy every moment of it.

Repairing her breaks her more. Take those morning walks.

Sip that morning coffee coagulating on the outside of our favorite mugs.

Listening to the slow rhythm of the good old Manu Chao

Make her realize there’s passion between those short breaths and deep gazes.

Passion that is so real and genuine that she would never dream of looking for it from someone else.

Passion that makes her body quiver and her legs tremble

I mean a passion she lacks words to describe

Make her realize her worth and how strong she is

You should not be everything she requires

But your arms should feel like home

A place she can invite herself and tell you how it feels.

It’s the broken hearted and the unworthy that piece themselves together

Make her relinquish that anxiety

It’s the kind of strength to be proud of

Then smile and read that unfinished novel in your shelf.