In a way, we are more whole when something in us is broken.
If you are looking for love, you should turn the world inside out, love is often found in
I am learning to love my body, to stop seeing a distorted image of a stranger in the mirror
In my body, I am a stranger, a soul who has lost the path that leads home
They say love with the whole of your heart, but how will a woman with a broken heart love
Pick up the thousand little pieces, build a cocoon that shields her from the world
And hide under her tongue this sad tale, that forms into a melancholy song whenever she sees a
Woman in her prime who wants to experiment with life
Sometimes our memories grow wings and they travel to places we will one day live
They evolve, and in their becoming, we see them as our greatest doubt
That the world is big enough to make us question our faith
We were made to create wholeness in our broken souls, we don’t need to fix the pieces
Like the Chinese broken vase with gold fillings, we are broken and beautiful
I don’t know what I will become tomorrow, maybe a stranger to myself
But with this stranger, I will dwell and accept that I have only become more of me
That in my becoming whole, I will not be the same old person who was never broken
Damilola Omotoyinbo is a Nigerian creative writer who believes in the power of the pen and the positive difference it can make in our world.
She has work/interview published and forthcoming in Afritondo, Kalahari Review, Praxis, Hack writers, The Nigerian Tribune News Paper and others. She is a fellow of the Ebedi International Writers’ Residence.