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Bekah Halle Aug 13
I am so irrevocably flawed,
That it should lead me to depression!
Perfection and not feeling worthy,
or good enough are like shards
Of broken glass, causing pain where gnawed.
But I'm reminded, of what beauty,
and reclaimed brokenness are; kintsugi,
And cry out more freely: I am flawed!
And how happier that makes me.
Bekah Halle Mar 30
Over the years, I’d built myself up;
Propped with awards, opportunities, degrees, and jobs atop of my growing ego: self-reliant, self-determined
And that’s all well and good. Most of us live like this,
Some say we should.

But when disaster happens, as it often does,
We may splutter and curse, or we may choose,
to lean in, to the painful transfiguration that undoes you loose,
That leaves you fragile, undifferentiated and barely there.
But it also brings unexpected delights:
Your frights addressed, and your faith ascends new heights,
And you are rebuilt with new might,

You stand again, but this time propped up with strength unseen.
As I now stand, I know I stand alone, but with a community within,
Solid more, deeper resources help me lift my chin,
Newer insights that remind me that I’m akin,
So, I stand firm, watch and learn.

The journey continues: new horizons await.

— The End —