I have this broken doll at the bottom of my drawer. She remains hidden from the outside world. Her limbs are twisted, and her hair knotted. Her white legs are covered in stains. A once pristine porcelain doll is now busted and shattered. Although she is battered and bruised from the years, I keep her. A thing that was once so beautiful doesn’t deserve to be thrown away with the trash. If anything, she deserves her own glass enclosure, preserving her beauty that won’t let her decay further. But I’m afraid my friends that life doesn’t work that way. Time doesn’t work that way. Because with time comes aging and the loss of beauty. Sometimes we become broken or hideous to those around us. But only after we lose our beauty do we truly see the characters hiding underneath our exterior. Only once we shed these facades will we see our real strength. Because without that safety net, all we have is ourselves.
This Feeling
There is this feeling
I cannot hide
It is a feeling
That I’ve harbored inside
For quite some time
It’s red and daunting
And out of control
How it came to be
I already know
For the fury, I feel
Became my coping mechanism
To deal with life’s unknowns
But now I must rid this feeling,
So, I’ll surrender
And let the feelings wash over me
And accept I cannot control
The world unknown
For this feeling is not who I am
Because now, I know it only hides
And distorts
Who I truly am inside
