Cracked
The people that reside here in this mess
Would have you believe
That if you have cracks you cannot be beautiful.
I am the breathing soul
Who is proof of their derisory premiss.
I am fractured,
Like a shard of splintering glass
I am sharp and chaotic.
Yet like the same broken piece of glass,
There is beauty in my cracks,
Stretching like the crystal spiderwebs,
Purposeful and flawless.
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