broken leg ;
SHE WAS like a broken chair.
A chair with three legs.
Weak, unstable and flawed.
She looked at the missing spot and thought,
Why am I not complete?
Why am I not enough?
Balancing seemed harder than ever for her.
All that she could see, was the broken leg.
An imperfection, a label that she couldn't look beyond.
Without realising that, in order to balance, she didn't need it.
The missing leg might never be found.
No.
All she needed, was something else that would work just as fine.
Something that wasn't moulded.
Something that was already within her.
Something that could lift her up.
Something that would remind her,
She was enough.
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