Before tragedy happened,
I was blissfully naïve.

Before tragedy happened,
I was content.

Before tragedy happened,
I was strong on my own.

Before tragedy happened,
I sought wisdom on my own.

Before tragedy happened,
I had no idea if I was human.

Before tragedy happened,
I was not wounded.

Before tragedy happened,
I was not alone.

Now?

The tragedy of life,
Became my savior and doom.

I am wise,
And Broken.

I am joyful,
Paying my price.

I am better,
With a cost.

I am human,
Scars marked on my soul.

I am now on my own,
People trying to fix me.

They repeat in my head,
“Be tough as iron.”

They sing within my core,
“Have better friends.”

They cry out in desperation,
“Fix yourself, you of little faith!”

They give good advice,
But when is advice ever good?

As if it could make my problems disappear,
To make me well with a wave of a magic wand.

The advice becomes useless,
Within the growing storm inside.

I attempt to take these words to heart,
The storm raging among the cacophony of voices.

I try to find myself,
As the strength inside dwindles.

I put on a mask,
Wearing my heart on my sleeve.

If I show them everything that is of me,
What will they see with blind eyes?

Beauty or beast,
Monster or saint.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,”
The saying rings in my ears.

One thing I know for sure?

I’m not tough as iron,
Being surrounded by naysayers.

I’m unable to fix myself,
It is not meant to be expected of me!

I show them who I am,
They only see what they wish me to be.

Who am I?

I’m broken,
But I hang on.

I’m not strong,
But I’m not weak.

I survive,
God being my witness.