The people that reside here in this mess

Would have you believe

That if you have cracks you cannot be beautiful.

I am the breathing soul

Who is proof of their derisory premiss.

I am fractured,

Like a shard of splintering glass

I am sharp and chaotic.

Yet like the same broken piece of glass,

There is beauty in my cracks,

Stretching like the crystal spiderwebs,

Purposeful and flawless.


This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741