I am not beautifully broken

I am not beautifully broken.
I was shattered
twisted like old plastic.
Bent

There was no kintsugi
no gentle piecing back together.
I held all the broken parts of me tightly
so tight they cut through my skin.

My broken pieces are held together with red tears
skinned knees
my determination.

I am not beautifully broken.
I am a stomped flower.
A torn page.
Cake crumbles

I’ve just learned to live through it
Around it
like a stubborn vine.
A weed.

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