Was she born of love? That she may never know. She was born to love, groomed with hate. She somehow learned to love — anyway.
Abused, abandoned, neglected, used, and broken, just like a tattered toy doll when its owner no longer cares about it. She continues to love — in spite of.
She’s irretrievably broken, waiting tirelessly for her healer, her savior, her lord, her mister, her mistress, her maker. The one who will make her whole, fix her broken body, and soothe her aching soul… for the first time.
Never realizing no one can fix her.
She’s irretrievably broken.
She looks for love, she finds loves, and she loves, she loves, and she loves more, in spite of her lack. In spite of his faults. Despite of her flaws. In spite of his temper. In spite of her shortcomings. Despite his lies. In spite of her disappointments.
Loving without conditions, loving with no guarantees, loving for dear life.
In search of that one, that thing, that word, that touch, that feeling, that something gives life, speaks life, breathes life into her.
She’s searching for her glue, her fix, that tape, her blessing, that carpenter, her mason, that builder — the one with the tools and the skills to put her back together, again. That one who will love her through death — to life.
She’s an irretrievably broken vessel, through no fault of her own.
©2019 Marley K. All rights reserved. May not be reprinted, republished or reproduced without explicit written permission.