Glue and Porcelain

By C.R. Doolan

I was born a porcelain vase 

Beautiful, yet fragile 

And though I looked strong, put together 

I was always intended to break 

I was made to break 

So I did

Over and over 

I broke with every raised voice, every disciplinary

action, every called name 

I broke in loud ways and silent ones 

The silent ones always hurt the most 

But the loud ones brought the embarrassment 

The shame, the guilt 

I spent my childhood doing arts and crafts

Like any other child 

But instead of cutting and pasting 

I spent mine gluing myself back together 

Taking every crack and chip and filling it 

Throwing the unfixable parts in the bin without a

second thought 

And I filled and filled myself with glue 

Until it dripped down the edges 

Until it changed me  

Changed how I looked

Changed how I spoke 

And without realising it one day

I became more glue than porcelain 

So when people say that I'm strong 

It's because they still see me as put together 

Because they don't look close enough to see the 

cracks 

To see the nothingness that fills them 

And what they don't realise is 

I am more than strength

I am strength 

Strength comes from breaking 

I am strong because I have broken time and time 

again 

I am strong because I have re-glued myself back 

together over and over 

Of course I'm fucking strong 

All the fragile bits are gone 

I'm just glue now 

By C.R. Doolan