I am not broken.

Although, perhaps to some I may appear that way.

When I sit in stillness, in the quiet of my own heart, it is clear that I may be chipped.

I may be cracked.

Parts of me may be loose or wobbly,

but there is such a profound beauty

in all of the scars and markings of this worn and tired being, 

that I can only imagine 

if I were completely broken 

I would be even more beautiful.