Fragmented Like Stained Glass.
Fragmented, she spread her wings,
displaying beauty within her wounds.
Catching the Sun through framed and brittle
segments strung together like stained glass,
telling a story.
told through veins and sinew, holding
her together better than promises and hopes.
Albeit, fragility still noticed.
But it doesn’t stop her. Oh no,
that aged butterfly with torn tissue paper wings,
She is not easily stopped. Oh no,
Stopping is admits defeat.
Defeat is not an option. Displaying
battles scars like badges of honor,
She learns to maneuver from rock
to flower to shit. Crippled,
from surface to soul, she still shows
the rainbow through her stained glass