Broken by stones

With good days and bad days. With strengths and weaknesess. And the truth is, those broken bones of mine are still aching. I often feel like I’m made of glass. Like I can break in an instant if someone isn’t careful enough. The truth is, I’m not a brave person. I’m so scared that someone will ruin my world I’ve built for myself inside.
Like stones thrown into a glasshouse. Like my walls are made of glass.

As if I’m seeing the world through a broken piece of glass. Broken by stones, or words, that people have thrown at it.

My world is broken, but in the most perfect way, and I wouldn’t wanna live anywhere else.