“She is a beautiful piece of broken pottery, put back together by her own hands. And a critical world judges her cracks while missing the beauty of how she made herself whole again.”
― J.M. Storm
A ball of sagging clay in your hands
taking shapes
between the ridges of your fingers
getting knead by your
bony knuckles of the long taloned hand
those slender fingers
which only an artist adores
You shape and mold me
and put indentations
gives shapes to my dreams and desires
and cover up the cracks
the unforgiving time has left in me
You pinch and prick and
accentuate the
beauty laying hidden in my soul
for the whole world to see
in its grandeur
and makes those wavy patterns
those ripples in time
the sweet memories
which stays,
etched in my mind
You baked and caked me in the
hard harrowing oven
to stress those lessons
which…
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