She was the type of girl that people admired her for her strength.

They noticed her but never spoke to her.

She was quiet but strong.

Rarely did she smile for it seemed too fake.

She was bent but not broken.

And in that moment when opportunities seemed to be infinite,

There were none.

She was afraid that things seemed to be too good.

As things fell into place,

She lost her way.

She was too familiar with uncertainty that when life was in her favor,

She hesitated.

For her heart was heavy,

Chaos dominating her thoughts,

That she felt defeated and shattered.

She was bent but not broken.

The tiny pieces that once created her,

destroyed her.

Her trust in love as a hopeless romantic,

Which once guided her,

Was no longer there.

She went mad, but in the beautiful type of way.

The type of way that could destroy the chaos she found surrounding herself.

She was bent but not broken.

Stronger more astounding she became,

The more people noticed her.

Her confidence radiating like sun,

Became her best quality.

Lighting up the room,

It wore off on others,

Her happiness helped others.

Yet when she used to find comfort in darkness in the moon,

She found comfort in the way she made others feel.

And found her way,

It was okay to not be okay,

Only for awhile.

For when her heart was broken,

She picked up the pieces on her own.

She was not broken, just a little bent.

"To be human is to be broken and broken is its own kind of beautiful."-R.M. Drake

xoxo,

cgl