I saw the god of broken things
Watched it patch tires
Reunite families
Debug code
Set bones
And cradle crying what was beyond fixing
Mourning stuff perhaps never even missed
Somewhere it became
The god of neurodivergents
The mental health strugglers
The disabled
The queer
Not because any were broken
Not by default
But because
so many prayers
That came to it
And it could not stand
To watch from a distance
And do nothing
I saw the god of broken things and did not realize how well it knew my secret voice
Read the beauty in this pain. Learn it. Know it.
Feel it.
It spoke to my soul.
Thank you for your words Andréa.
