I don’t mind a book with a broken spine, the edges of the pages already thumbed through and ragged, a dog ear or two can put me quite at home. I don’t mind the scratches on top of my washing machine. it’s sort of nice actually having those first imperfections out of the way. it helps me let the rest go. when we moved into our house and bought a new-to-us refrigerator for $400, the struggle to get it through the doorway left it with a gouge on the freezer door. and my husband felt bad, but I told him— if the scratch had been there before, I still would have bought the fridge. it’s what’s inside that counts. and I’ll tell it to you, my friend, who feels worn out and used, and who carries the baggage of all those past relationships. how beautifully they began, and how terribly they ended— I hope you know I don’t mind a broken spine. I’m broken in places too, and scratched up, and dog eared, and some of the notes in my margins misunderstand me completely. truly, I don’t mind the broken— so long as I haven’t done the breaking.
This is poem 7/12 counting down to the release of my debut poetry collection as the Sparrow flies. It comes from the section entitled—in Wounds, and I hope it meets you in yours. To see more details or purchase the entire collection CLICK HERE.