I am hollow,
just as if I were a honeymelon
beautiful, and unique on the surface
yet hollow to the core once cut open
I am damaged,
by words ever so wounding.
They lie to you as a kid when they tell you the cute little rhyme
“sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me”
I am cold,
or at least that’s what I have to tell the others,
for fear that the constant battle I have with myself will be evident.
So I wear long sleeves or jackets
I am darkness.
The cloud above my head is a never ending thunderstorm.
Depression, and negativity fill the moist condensation,
I wonder if I’ll ever escape this.
I am hopeful.
Thankful to my savior who pulled my light from behind the clouds.
A powerful gift I will never take for granite
I am me.
A fragile emotional human,
with battle wounds to remember the journey
but I found the love who gives me my peace