Every person has scars.
Emotional baggage.
Broken.

Life is a jungle of thorns.
Looking out to destroy you, if you let it.
Broken.

Every person is interesting.
Fascinating, beautiful.
Broken.

I am afraid to be seen.
Afraid to be loved.
Broken.

They say you accept the love you think you deserve.
What does that even mean?
Broken.

People distract themselves. Look for perfect loves.
Look for someone to mend them.
Broken.

In the end you understand.
Only you can fix yourself.
Broken.

Even if your soul still aches,
your amazing spirit will love you, heal you, fix you.
If you think you deserve it.
And you do.
So you no longer are
*Broken.