We all have past lives. Ghosts that try to haunt us.
We all have our own traumas we may never reveal.
Some of us have even been broken a time or two,
whether by our own hands or someone else’s.
I don’t like broken people.
Love everyone, but I am nobody’s savior.
I like people who were once broken but found a way
to stitch themselves back together again.
We don’t choose our breaking, but we can choose our healing.
We can choose who we become.
That’s where authenticity lives.
A similar theme can also be seen in this excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit:
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.
“You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.
Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
Enjoyed the read . I’ve met lotsa broken people some got fixed some didnt .
Nice work! Your poem reminds me of a book I read recently by Brene’ Brown; Daring Greatly. She includes that same verse from The Velveteen Rabbit in one chapter.