Staring at me, he said,
"There's fire in your eyes",
I smiled at his keen observation,
Not knowing what to say.

Honestly, I was impressed.
He had noticed something,
Something no one else had,
But him.

With hopeful eyes, he's still staring,
Longing for an explanation,
But how do I explain?
This agony, this pain.

It can't be put into words,
What this feeling is,
Because all it has done,
Is turn me hollow.

Indestructible words,
Dangerous, insatiable,
Is it worth it?
Is it?

Looking deep into his eyes, I say,
"I can't", with a shy smile,
He's confused, not being able to decipher,
This mess that I am.

Maybe I'm not meant to be understood.
Neither my thoughts, nor my actions,
Because probably no one can,
Nobody but me.

Because all I am, is a broken heart,
Stabbed too many times.
Wounds and scars too deep,
Too deep to be healed.

And maybe I will never heal,
And it's all right,
Because these battle marks remind me,
Of what I overcame, what I won.

Doodling onto my bruises,
I'll turn them into feathers,
And maybe then the world will realise,
That broken is beautiful.