A thousand shattered pieces on a sticky lino floor sour, red liquid seeping into the worn rug’s edges No. That’s not me. A balled-up fist on a bruised cheekbone blood trickling out between broken teeth No. That’s not me. A child waiting, alone in a dark closet rocking back and forth, to quell his fear No. That’s not me. I breathe claw crawl walk run jump soar – yes, that’s me, and as long as there is life in me, kindness in others, and goodness in this world, I shall not be broken.
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