Physically...
I'm taken...
My name is no longer singular but plural..
Plural in the sense of I am half of someone else in the regards of marriage...
Emotionally...
I'm broken...
My feelings no longer receptive to giving love...
Because love hasn't been given...
Mentally...
I'm driven...
Driven to pull myself out of the hold of resentment and regret...
Resenting the fact that I gave my all despite the signs that they didn't.....
Regretting I allowed myself to be lost...
Shattered...
Broken...
Pieces of me holding on by mere threads screaming for help...
And I...
I'm not even strong enough to put them back together...
Who am I?
My shell displays happiness...
Confidence...
Beauty...
It lights the room in a dark place...
Each layer of me is pronounced and bold...
I elude peace...
Even on bad days...
It appears...
But take away that shell....
Go beyond those layers....
And look into my soul...
It tells the true reflection of who or what I really am...
Broken.
(Dedicated to all the married women who live a facade everyday. The women who yearn for unconditional love because they don't have it at home. The women who are truly beautiful but don't feel it. You are not alone.)
