Shattered

Broken and beaten,
I gather my pieces
Pretending that
Everything is okay
That if I try
Hard enough,
This'll all go away
But it doesn't
Work that way
Admittance is self-defeat,
Isn't it?
Or is it a chance
To grow even more?
Like the photographer,
You look at me and say,
'You're perfect and
Beautifully so
I wouldn't have you
Any other way'
And so in my brokenness,
I look unto
These open skies
And whisper out,
'I'm okay...'