Cracks In Me Poem by Alyssa Marquardt

I sit on the edge of the world,
Watching waves crash against black sand,
As a million tiny pieces slip slowly through the cracks of my bare hand.
And I can't help but wonder,
what I really am...

'Cause I am NOTHING but a piece of clay,
Shaped rather slowly by God's hands each day.
Molded together,
Tourn apart.
Each touch of your hand leaves cracks in my heart.
I want to run away from the things that you do-
But I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.

You laugh at my ignorance,
While sharing tea with tears and time.
And I wonder...
How the hell am I to sing when reason has no rhyme?

I know what I'll be!
He, she, they all know who I'll be!
But still I wait,
For the cracks in my skin to smoothen away,
And the beauty within me to surface.

'Cause I want to be MORE than a flimsy piece of clay,
or wet sand in an unkown name,
I want to be...me!
Whatever I was meant to be.

But if I MUST wait by the edge of this shore,
I'll gladly sit and merely adore
the people around me, the beauty I see.
Silently praying to find it in me.