I am not broken


Just got a little chip


Like that cup from beauty and the beast


I still think feel and breathe


I can still do my job


Just not the same way as everyone else


And sometimes I notice it


The difference between me and you


My mind goes through how it got there


And I am stuck in my bed


Not wanting to get up


Not knowing how to get up


Forcing my feet to just take me


Walk me away from this nightmare


But sometimes the nightmare


is me


Creating my own cracks and chips


Becoming the thing that hurts me the most


And points out imperfections


That may not even be there


I read once that


People’s good qualities are on their backs


That is why we can’t see them


But I feel like mine have been ripped off


Stolen by someone who claimed to love me


Who made me think that I was broken


And I am just starting to get my signs back


Break out my pens and crayons


I am trying to make my own


Bring back the color that was there


Bring back the things before the break


So I am putting them back


Placing my signs back where they belong


But sometimes My pen runs out of ink


And My crayons break


Then all I am stuck with is my bed


And feet that can’t walk away


noticing the chips that seem to keep forming


Creaking cracks that aren’t there


Thinking I am broken


When what I should be noticing

Are the pretty signs on my back


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