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Creative Writing


You look at me and only see the cracks,
Fractured, like a piece of glass.

Some are shallow and straight,
Created by silently carrying so much weight.

Others are round and splayed like stars,
Words, a solar system of scars.

Some are deep and cut to my core,
From trials I thought I could no longer endure.

Some hold tightly to splintering shards that still cut,
A painful reminder every time they are touched.

Others are jagged and worn,
And some are occupied with scorn.

Some of them are lessons,
Regretfully brought on by my own transgressions.

All of them create an intricate mosaic of intertwined lines,
Reminders of the things I’ve survived.

A prismatic display of beauty and strength;
Though I am fractured, I did not break.

-    Jodi M. Kucera