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Bandaging The Broken

Picking up the pieces of everyone but yourself

By Stephanie JarrellPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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She wore her heart on her sleeve.

Constantly gravitating towards those that were broken.

Likely because she resonated with the brokenness that she saw.

She felt she stood a better chance at helping them realize their worth than she did with herself.

Wanting to build them up to a version of themselves that they were proud of.

Instill confidence in them that she herself wasn't yet acquainted with, but that she found only when holding a match to ignite someone else’s spark.

She knew what it was like to sort through the rubble left behind by life's natural disasters or by other people.

She didn’t mind accompanying others in their clean-up process.

Attempting to glue others back together was what made her feel whole.

She never thought twice about it.

It was in her nature.

Leaving people better than she found them.

Almost to a fault.

At times, her desire to be a light to everyone else left her in the shadows.

The questioning of her own self-worth would eventually begin to snowball from the disappointment of giving time and effort to people who didn’t give the same back.

Bandaging the wounds of others while hers were bleeding.

Determined to push others to the finish line even if she was gasping for air.

Being a rock for others while she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She put herself out there for others while simultaneously putting herself on the back burner.

Too often she felt like her words were falling on deaf ears.

To avoid a hardening heart, she began to listen more and talk less.

She sought to understand people in the way she realized she longed to be understood.

To understand their pasts and the thoughts that took up space in their minds.

Paying attention to the tiniest details.

Every reason and story that made them the person they were.

In her attempt to be a light to others, she kept wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Granting access to anyone who needed it, as if she had more than one to spare.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Stephanie Jarrell

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