Under Repair

Broken, shattered, but not beyond repair. Mentally scattered, drained, deeply pained, strained and emotionally wounded. Yet, still, I remain durable, curable, regardless of if I had someone willing enough to care. Heart in critical condition, blood lost, soul filled with a hint of frost, but once again, my optimism has been spared. And though I'm scared, guarded intensely, surrounded by a density of nerves, with a propensity to run at the first sign of stress, I realize that I have been blessed to receive all of the love I once shared. Even when I was left vulnerable, bare, paired with someone who didn't give a shit, left open and alone, I have felt love. And above anything, though fleeting, delivering continuous beatings to my ego, threatening to break my self-esteem, my spirit will forever redeem itself. Love is an emotion with the strength to conquer over the anger and hate, abated these feelings that could have been repressed in the depths of my heart. And instead of allowing myself to be devoured by relationships that have turned sour, I empower myself with the love once felt. And though my past battles have left me doubting my ability to handle being hurt again, I refuse to be scorned. Even with the heavy maintenance I require and my need for refurbishing, hope transpires, seeping through my pores. I will not transfix on the fact that I still have fixing in store. Rather, I'll divert my attention to the notion that once repaired, I'll be prepared to be better than I've ever been before.