The shattered edges

The desperate are who to fear

There’s nothing quite as scary

As someone desperate to survive

Who’s tasted loss so raw and heavy

But still comes clawing

still alive.

For it’s the broken who cut deep

The ones discarded

left to rust.

They learned to fight instead of weep

Their tenderness was replaced with dust.

They walk with wounds that never close

With eyes that see through every lie.

They wear their scars like quiet prose

And smile when others say goodbye.

You fear the ones who fall apart

But it’s the ones who did and stayed

Who stitched the pieces of their heart

That you should never disobey.

They’re built of silence

grit

and flame

The sharpest edges

chipped and true

And in their grief

they carve their name

A warning

“I’ll pass my grief to you.”