No one will understand you,
glass child.
You have seen and experienced things
most don't.
They know there's something different,
something off.
But they will never comprehend
the hell you call a childhood.
The horror you call home
would be an enigma to them.
They don't know the pressure placed on you.
You try to hide the cracks and chips
so the world does not see it got to you.
But dear glass child,
you don't understand.
The cracks you hate,
the chips you despise,
they make you beautiful.
You understand better than anyone,
the power words have.
You understand that a simple action,
can change a person's world.
Dear glass child,
You are beautifully broken.
You may think that's not true,
that you must have it together.
But THAT is not true.
Because you are broken
you know how to heal others.
Because you've gone through hell,
you can guide others to safety.
Dear glass child,
you are beautifully broken,
a gorgeous work of art.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.