Holes in the wall can be covered
By thick black duct tape
A temporary quick fix
But they still exist behind it
And will continue to do so
Until they are sealed and the wall painted over

Holes in your heart can be covered by
So many to do lists
A busy lifestyle
A band-aid to cover up
One wound or many
That still exist
And will continue to do so
Until you reach in and begin healing

It doesn’t work to pretend that you are whole
To always wear a mask to cover up the hurt
Eventually it hurts to keep it on
To smile all the time
Instead of allowing yourself the tears
The grief
So that you can tunnel through it
Towards the light on the other side

One day you realize that lots of what you’ve been doing is to create noise
To drown out the silence
And that it is time to listen to it
To its messages
So that you can pick up the pieces that will help you
Patch up those holes

And it won’t be perfect
It never is
As holes patched up look like they’ve been worked on
As they have been
And sometimes not professionally
But by amateurs such as yourself
In the business of healing and patching things up

But that is ok
Because you were never expected to be perfect
Perfect doesn’t exist
We all have holes
And are constantly working on patching them
Over and over
Just don’t use duct tape
It’s too rough when pulled off