[written in 2023]
It took too long to figure out I was broken, wounded, and frozen in time like a little toy soldier. Fragile yet said to be durable and unbreakable, cracking with every passing moment, holding things together by what little strength remains in this plastic case. I hear the sound of shattering all around.
Maybe if I was made better, I could have been stronger and stayed longer, or maybe I was never meant to be strong. What if that was the case? I was weak from the start; I wasn't meant for such rough play, thrown and dropped. This war was never for me to fight; it wasn't for anyone to fight. There would never be anyone who could win.
None of us were made for such a battle; we were all made gentle and like porcelain, with soft colors and bones made of glass. Each day we try to fight it leaves us with more cracks, chips, and scratched old red paint. We should have stayed where we began, innocent and gentle. Delicately made for peace, yet all we ever do is fight.
Blame everyone for the cracks we made for ourselves, yet ignore the people we have shattered. All while we remain porcelain soldiers.
YOU ARE READING
Original works
PoetryThis started as a collection of vent writing that i posted on quotev but seeing as quotev has failed us all, I decided to go ahead and post it here. It's nothing special honestly.
