I am hollow,

just as if I were a honeymelon

beautiful, and unique on the surface

yet hollow to the core once cut open

I am damaged,

by words ever so wounding.

They lie to you as a kid when they tell you the cute little rhyme

“sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me”

I am cold,

or at least that’s what I have to tell the others,

for fear that the constant battle I have with myself will be evident.

So I wear long sleeves or jackets

I am darkness.

The cloud above my head is a never ending thunderstorm.

Depression, and negativity fill the moist condensation,

I wonder if I’ll ever escape this.

I am hopeful.

Thankful to my savior who pulled my light from behind the clouds.

Love

A powerful gift I will never take for granite

I am me.

A fragile emotional human,

with battle wounds to remember the journey

but I found the love who gives me my peace