She saw the beauty in pain,
And the growth, and the strength,
And maybe that's why she was drawn to brokenness,
To broken people,
To hastily mended souls and frayed hearts.
Maybe it was because she thought that she could help heal them.
And maybe that's why she spend her time
Her energy
Her willpower
Trying to help fill the cracks,
Peeling off little pieces of her own heart
To patch the holes left by others.
But one day she found
Maybe she tore off too much,
Her own broken heart scarred by amateur stitches
The comforter longing to be comforted,
But the world looked,
And saw a girl too broken to be repaired
Who loved too much to be loved
And there she stood
With her patchwork heart,
Torn apart by love
And left alone.
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