Entering a world of the unknown
There are many here
Many broken things polished to appear new
Hearts racing amongst the pavement borrowed from the fields of rejection
They’re all here waiting to be seen, to be heard
Clinging to souls present for praise
Hoping the soul close enough to touch will relieve them of their hopeless sense of self
They gather around formulating empty spells to cast amongst those who wield power
“Pick me. See me. Believe in me.”
The spines of the broken weave themselves together
Uncomfortable comfort, poised in blistering shoes
Clacking heels bring them closer to nothingness disguised with a bow
The gifts of this world are no gifts at all
Souls exchanging their essence for inclusion
Breaking bones to modify their place here
Here where broken things migrate
Pushed away from settlers content with comfort
Given pyrite to replace their gold
The world of the unknown feast on its prey
Finishing what’s left of the fresh morsel until death seeps into the depths of their inner workings
Polishing the splitting remains gleaming on the surface with no depth
Hallow
Replacing its breath with dust
Here, there are many polished things broken stripped of their foundation
Unsteady
Relieved of the roots that once traveled through their core shooting up the fragments where their backbone once lived
Ingested programming to shape the cracks
Plastered faces propped for display
Desperate panting reaches the room before they arrive
“I’m one of you. Can’t you tell? Look at me!”
Waiting for their big break
The break which will shatter all they are
Glistening pieces searching for wholeness
Frolicking within this place where the rumbling ground awaits its turn
Too consumed by disguised distractions
Everyone in a rush to stand in line
Worshipping the illusion offered to mend the broken
There are many here
Many broken things polished to appear new Los Angeles
