Mirror image,
distraction from self,
driven forwards, by our insecurities,
I am
beautifully broken.
placing ourselves
beneath the tailored made bodies,
drowning in their perfections,
drunk on the fantasy of it all.
We are,
beautifully broken
paint upon our faces,
masks to hide the tears,
the fears, we hold of never being enough.
of cracking beyond repair.
beautifully broken.
It comes in waves,
these thoughts,
that rip through me,
that scream at me for attention.
I
Am
Beautifully
Broken
pulsating,
this beat that draws me in,
craving for love, to penetrate my skin
to rise above the pain,
to feed the divine within.
The older you get, the more comfortable you become in your own skin, but some insecurities remain, at least for me anyhow. And I wonder, how it would change me to be more confident, more self assured. I don't do regrets and I have learned to appreciate each stroke of pain, that has created me.
