Broken Girl

She appears as if
She is just
Barely holding together
Dusty
Cracked and
Fragile pieces
A haphazard mosaic
Of her life and pain and small
Soft
Dying voice
Bound only
By thin
Dried out
Glue
Fragile and fraying
Strings of hope
Hold her heart from
Falling in two
She fears the next
Man she meets
Will be the monster that
Wields the final pair of
Vicious
Beautiful
Scissors
That will slice her
Straight through
Her calloused hands tremble
Aching
Sore and
Weary
From the weight of
Carrying her tears
Her own personal sea
A burden
Which she must
Hold and hide and drown in
Day after day
When she
Peels off the disguise of
Placid contentment she
So desperately clings to
Her eyes are miserably dark and
Hollow
They hurt to even
Glance at
People stay away
She isn’t someone
You want to invest your heart or
Time
Into
For she is broken
Shattered
Twisted
Beyond a
Simple repair
Her nails are chipped and torn
Bitten into jagged
Peculiar
Mountains
By her own anxious
Teeth
They scratch all she dares to touch
Even the most
Gently
Her thoughts are
Monstrous lies
All which she believes are
Undeniably true
She wholeheartedly thinks she is
Ugly
Useless and
A failure
Too
Each night
Her fragile soul
Chips
Chips
Chips
Away
She’s terrified
Frightened
Relieved
That she may not wake up
To see another day
Her hope is a single
Dimly glowing
Orange red ember
Amidst mountains of
Bitter ash and coal
If anyone can
Bring back the fire in
Her
That is what no one
Truly
Knows

-Megan M. Phillips

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17 thoughts on “Broken Girl

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