The broken pieces that make me stronger

The+broken+pieces+that+make+me+stronger

I am the shattered computer screen—the broken pencil tip. As the ink in my brain runs dry,  I desperately scramble to find more thoughts that will thrust my pen into writing mode, but as my hand dwindles above the paper, no more ink is left. 

I am a writer. I look inside myself in search of new facets to explore, but when confronted, my brain is a jumble of opinions forced down by the fear of expectations. 

I tiptoe around your feelings as not to disturb you with my innermost workings. Your expectation deteriorates my enthusiasm. You say my work has to be deep enough to portray emotion, clever enough to make you laugh or cry, but not so depressing that people think something is wrong with me. 

But did you ever stop to think maybe we are all insane? Bound to go crazy by the fate set in place for us? My melancholy perspective is just how I perceive the world. 

My words try to break through your barricade, but you chained them up with deceitful lies hoping the world would forget their existence. You threw away the key in an attempt to diminish my persistence, but I have a spare. 

I am the light bulb that keeps flickering—never quite fitting in the socket. You can flip my switch, but it would make little difference. You tap my glass hoping to break me, but honey, I’m already broken. 

My words try to break through your barricade, but you chained them up with deceitful lies hoping the world would forget their existence.

If you say you’re not shallow, then why do my feet touch? We don’t have to be measured by the depth of our uniqueness, yet you made it so. It’s true I could drown you, but my pristine reputation would never allow it. Held back by my doll-like exterior, I pardon your misconception of me. 

Relaxing now, although I am the shattered computer screen, the flickering light bulb, the ominous pool of distortion. My ink is not dry despite what you told me. My brain is not an insect in need of detection. I have found new attributes where my opinions are clear regardless of your presumption. 

No longer held back by the fear of disappointment, I push forward through your barrier, your miles of shallow water, and eventually, take back the ink you stole from me. My words will be heard despite your valiant efforts.

I won.