I’m broken. 

Tattered with uneven scars, unhealed wounds, untold stories, impartial agony, and un-reciprocated love.

I’m broken.

Unable to speak the hurtful words that defined me for so long; unable to unravel the tangled web that has become my life’s work. 

I am broken. 

Breathing in the toxicity purged into my soul, bound underneath the weight of my damaged spirit, it seeps through my cracks, through out my being, and into my world. 

I am broken. 

Pleading with myself to find solace as I drown in the despair that covers me. And unlike any experience in my life, grief has adhered to me like permanent paint waiting to dry.

I’m broken

Beyond repair, beyond reprieve; destined to sink in the quicksand named sorrow.  To wallow in the sea of depression, drowning under its current

I am broken. 

Denying myself complete healing, awaiting an apology that will never come, seeking something, searching constantly. So I ask, Lord, where do I go from here?

Because Lord, I am broken

Still, I pray each night to wake up to a new day where I am whole again; without the pain that plagues me. Understanding there are eyes on me; God’s hands are on me, my circles belief is in me.  Never will I give up just because one day…

I am broken will become I am whole

By: Valerie Furr-Collins

vfurrmstheblogger #mypoeticlifethebook #mypoeticlife #iambroken #broken #valeriefurrcollins  #valeriemariecollins 

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