kintsugi

stick around till the end to hear the old me come out a lil lmaoo - - - nothing shatters clean. the break is always jagged— a history of pressure, not an accident. - you kneel among the pieces like theyre sacred, fingertips careful, not to fix but to witness. - there is no erasing. only gold dust and lacquer, a slow devotion wo what once gave way under too much weight. - you dont pretend it never broke. you say: look here, this is where it hurt most— this is where the light gets in. - and the bowl, cracked and gleaming, holds just as much as it did before— maybe more - not because its whole, but because it remembers how it wasnt