Broken

I am broken.

It’s hard to keep things inside when you’re broken. It’s the cracks, you see, they can’t hold everything in. Stuff leaks out. The pain, the fear, the rage, the doubt, the shame… it’s too much for a broken vessel to hold. So it seeps out and it makes a mess.

I live in fear that this mess will frighten people away. I am afraid they’ll be disgusted.

Don’t tell me it’s a baseless fear. I know for a fact that it isn’t. I’ve had people come running to me for my bold colours and my bright light… only to have them stomp away, frustrated and disappointed in me for not being the perfect rainbow girl they thought I was.

I am broken.

And they are blind.

I am still beautiful. I am unique. I am worn in. I am like an old comfortable shoe. I have character.

Now… if only I could believe that last little paragraph…