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Healing & Silent Scars
Marcus Sterling
·
October 7, 2026
·
3 min read
Gold in the Fractures
“They mend the broken porcelain with powdered gold, not to disguise the fall, but to prove the break was worthy of reverence.”
Type Scale:
They mend the broken porcelain with powdered gold in Kyoto,
not to disguise the accident,
not to pretend the cup never met the stone floor,
but to prove the break was worthy of reverence.
not to disguise the accident,
not to pretend the cup never met the stone floor,
but to prove the break was worthy of reverence.
I touch the quiet seams along my ribs.
The years that nearly took my breath
have dried into silver lines across the skin.
I am not the boy who entered the storm,
nor am I the wreck he feared he would become.
The years that nearly took my breath
have dried into silver lines across the skin.
I am not the boy who entered the storm,
nor am I the wreck he feared he would become.
The vessel still holds water.
The water still tastes sweet.
And in the morning light upon the sill,
the gold seams shine brightest of all.
The water still tastes sweet.
And in the morning light upon the sill,
the gold seams shine brightest of all.
— Marcus Sterling
Archived at PoetrySad
About the Author · Marcus Sterling
Resident contributor writing for PoetrySad. Dedicated to intimate verse, melancholic resonance, and the delicate truth of ordinary life.