i am falling apart
as i try to open my eyes while i stir my cup of milo because 3, 5, 8, 13 hours of sleep is no where close to what i need
as i walk along the hallways full of students, eyes downcast, weighed down by the books on my shoulder
as i stand at home, alone, crying in the shower, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror; not even i can bear to look at me
as i lay in my bed at night, staring at the dark ceiling, my thoughts keeping me awake, or if not my thoughts, then my nightmares

i am breaking into pieces
cracking under the pressure of “everything” in my life, the same sort of “everything” that everyone else can handle
unlike diamonds, i do not shine, instead i am collapsing into the floor and leaving a stain to be wiped off or covered up
breaking, but only under the surface, because as long as i’m not hurting on the outside, i’m not actually hurting at all

i am shattered glass on the ground
something to frown upon, something that people step over or simply avoid altogether
an ugly disfigurement, unacceptable for the public to see, inappropriate for kids to know
pointy and rigid and bound to hurt anyone who comes near me, not as though i mean to

i am
not needed
a waste of space

i am broken

i am being rebuilt
as i slide around the kitchen with my fuzzy socks, drinking my milo and feeling excited for the new day: new opportunity ahead
as i lift my head walking down the corridor, meeting someone’s eye, so i smile, and when they smile back, i feel like i could fly
as i sing off tune in the shower, steam fogging up the mirror, which i wipe off later so i can see my beautiful self
as i say a quick prayer of thanks before i turn off my light, get into bed, and drift into a restful sleep

i am glued back together
when my friends remind me that they want to stay in my life, and when my family says they’re proud, because i am “an amazing person”
i glow in my own way, give my own light; i am proud of who i am and what i have gone through and i’m not afraid to show my scars
scars are not signs of weakness, but signs of strength, because you made it out the other side stronger than when you started

i am a sunlit masterpiece
no longer bits of glass on the gravel, but i am a stained-glass window, a beautiful work of art
i am something people travel far to look at and admire, show to all the people they know
they all say, “wow, so intricate, so colourful, i want to see it for my myself, it is perfect”

i am
necessary to life

i am not broken

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