I have been broken.
Not the type of broken
You stitch back up
Or get a new of
Or glue back together
Not the type of broken
You repair with gold
Hoping it will become more beautiful than before
Not the proud brokenness
You wear like battle scars
It makes you brave
Invincible
Untamable
That it feels ok
To have been broken all along
I've been broken
Beyond repair
Laying on that bed
Body turning to decay
Dark in the middle of the day
When the sunshine
Peeks through the window
My dreams turned
Broken too
In the silent abyss
In its lucidity
And then came the healers
The grandmothers
To repair my brokenness
To stitch me back together
With their veils of saints
And the spirits of their plants
With every pulsating form
They could find
Trying to bring me back
And there I was
Even my blood had turn to mud
My voice to sand
And I was broken
In a myriad stars
Waiting for God to take me
So I could shine
But I had stopped believing
In the Divine
So I stayed broken
Without repair
Accepting all my pieces
All of my beautiful
Brokenness.
~VFVpoetry