I am broken.
People pick the "beautiful"
from my shattered pieces
and put it together
like it would fix me,
because beautiful beings
are made with pretty things,
right? That means I must
be insignificant, small
enough to fit in the palm
of your hand cause the only
piece of me that matters
is the one that continues to give
all of her beautiful pieces away
to complete other delicate displays
of shards with her single piece
to show people a completed form,
their whole being,
not leaving enough for me
to see myself the same.
Only left with pieces
no one else wanted.
About the Creator
A. Nguyen
A writer at heart who wants to share my works. I want to evoke emotion in people when they read my writing but I won't ever know if I can, if I don't put anything out into the world so this is my first step :)
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