She wasn’t as broken as she was incomplete. She had been misguided and misused. Any lessons most learn in their formative years, she was never taught. She would grow to adapt without realizing her reality wasn’t everyone’s. There were times she would stand and fight the winds as though she were invincible. Yet there were others where she would crumble with the slightest breeze. She would wander through life seeking something, that later would be told to her, she could only find in herself. But she wouldn’t ever find it inside because she didn’t feel she deserved to look. So she wandered through life searching for anything to replace the very thing she knew she couldn’t find.
She worked hard at being accommodating, useful or desired. She worked hard at hiding her broken. She worked hard at trying anything to fill the cracks to fix herself. Sometimes it felt like she was beating her heart against a razor covered wall. Over and over again she would full fill her own prophecy, she was unlovable. Then she would just cower in a corner of her mind numbing it all while wearing the mask of fine. Over and over again in her head she would replay the times, the words, her actions, where did she mess it all up. No one stays, no one sees her broken as beautiful. Perhaps the beauty is only apparent if she loves herself first.
Lola Trying 