Broken pieces of she

She wasn’t as perfect as he wanted her to be.

She scrunched her nose when she was thinking

She couldn’t take a compliment

And she hid from the world when she gave even more than she could.

She was broken

But not in a way that most broken bottles lay on sidewalks…

It was more of fragmented pieces of glass colored to match every side of her

She was a mural

A piece that was not easily understood

Not easily digested 

Not easily accepted.

She was different

And the world was her catch-22.

But who knew if he could love all of that about her too?

Who knows…

Maybe he did

Maybe you do.

One thought on “Broken pieces of she”

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