I watched you wobble and waver as you walked,
With my whole heart in your unsteady hands,
Hitting hard Earth as it fell like a rock,
Clumsiness that crumpled stone into sand.
Mighty like a mountain, made to feel small,
Fractured from trying to be what you'd want,
Spelled our love into sand, scribbling my all,
Not knowing I should be my own favorite font.
I was the crystals that covered the ground,
Who was broke, then found and forged into glass,
I'm indestructible now, how profound,
Made and molded myself to live and last.
To be forever broken is a view that's archaic.
I'll pick up my own pieces and make a mosaic.
YOU ARE READING
Mosaic of Me
PoetryTo be broken implies that one can never be fixed. It's an idea that's existed for centuries, yet it's so very wrong. If we are capable of being broken, it means that once we were whole. And we have the strength to put ourselves back together again.
