I am past trying to mend
Picking up the broken pieces of self esteem
Off the broken ground
There they can rest
I
Do not cry myself to sleep anymore
Whimper under rented covers
Wiping the thunder from my cheeks in a neon glow
Now I awake
Shaking
Trembling in an anxious mess
Curled up accepting this is consequence
The difficulties of life
Attempts are now confronted
Set in the center ring
Stitched
Boldly on my sleeve
For the world to see
Insecurities and inabilities are embraced
Rather than painted a painful shade of disgrace
Accepted
As consequence
As life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem