Perhaps some day [s]he might find a way not to feel like a broken toy. Like a long forgotten novelty board game with too many parts missing to play.

Perhaps some day s[he] might find a way to look in the mirror and see beautiful. Not distorted or traumatized and broken into pieces. But unified and made complete and whole.

Perhaps some day s[he] might even find a way to see [he]rself as you see [he]r.

Imagine that. If s[he] could see [he]r the way you see [he]r.

Imperfectly perfect just as is.

That’s worth dreaming of. That’s worth fighting for.

 

The sun will rise upon a new day. And the flaws will catch that light.

 

Whippoorwill.