Story of stories

Listen

Something broken will never be as strong as it would be if was not touched. If it was taken care of and treated with love it wouldn’t be broken and it would have all its strength and use. But something broken is as good as useless. All its purpose and meaning evaporated because there is no place for something broken.

Ridiculed by her father demeaned by her brother ignored by her mother and a joke to her sister she was broken. 

She had no place and no one fought to keep her in the perfect little world that had been created. 
She was broken and though she knew she had lost her meaning and purpose and she was almost useless she turned her broken parts to the wall and covered them because if they can’t see them maybe they are good as gone.
She knew all the cracks and chips and every hole they put in her, every scar they left, all the scars she left but they were hidden, very little damage done to the outside.
They had a way of only making her hurt on the inside.
They knew how to plan every strike so that she felt it the most in the heart, in the most fragile part of her.
She hid the scars on the outside made by her.
The ones that matched the scars left on the inside. Those were harder to hide but no one noticed because no one listened.
No one took the time to notice she was hiding all of the hurt and all of the broken pieces.
No one knew she had cracked because the wall hid it away for only her to see and no one else.
There were people who picked her up and examined the scars but they ignored her.
They looked at the pleas and the words and dismissed them. The perfect little family. The family that was okay. The family where it is full of smiles and laughter.
She a painted smile on her face because it was never real. The mask hid the things she hated on her face and the permanent tear stains on her cheeks.
The masks hid the darkness in her eyes, the look of surrender.
The family that raised her and grew up with her they didn’t listen to the noises of pain she made.
They didn’t acknowledge the fact that she breaking down inside.
They didn’t listen to the things she said about her hurt.
She let them break her.
She practically gave them a hammer and told them to swing as hard as they could.
They didn’t though.
They went for the heart.
The source of her, they took the hammer and made repeated hits to her heart.
She could only take so much. Her family hurt her harder and worse than anyone person who attempted to hurt her.
She couldn’t run.
She was stuck on the shelf facing the wall letting them throw punches.
They would stop if she asked but they never listened.
They don’t listen.
She only wanted a person that would listen.
She didn’t want someone to repair her, she wanted someone to hand her, her broken pieces as she repaired herself.
She could do it herself but the broken pieces were scattered all over and there was no way she could get all of them before they continued their well-thought-out torture.
They hurt her enough to leave scars but not enough to shatter her.
She was missing a few pieces but she looked around and saw others completely shattered and thought she was lucky.
All of her broken pieces were hidden but she still thought she had it better.
It could be worse for her so she welcomed the jabs and the comments and the paint peeling and the tiny pieces craking off.
She let it happen because no one listened before and she thought no one would listen now.

She was broken. She was useless. She was meaningless.

No one listened enough to tell her otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi beautiful People
Know that what you feel and what hurts you even if is not a lot is just as important and valid as someone going through something really bad even if it doesn't feel like it. Sure it could always be worse but it could also be better. Dont lower what your going through just because someone else could be going through something worse.