We’re all broken, we all have some flaws.
At what point does the damage become us? I am damaged. I have a hard time trusting new people, and opening up to those I’m supposed to trust.
I see others as damaged, but it’s those imperfections that draw me in. Like light hitting shards of glass and reflecting, I see myself in the pieces blemished by life. I see hope. I see beauty.
katharinewink 
I can’t even see the me I was once. I hate that this is what I’ve become, but just like Humpty Dumpty, no one could put me together again… and the attempts are obvious. As long as you don’t get too close, you won’t notice, so I keep everyone at arm’s length.
Well, maybe not my husband, but even with him, I am not sure if he realizes the depths of the fractures.
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