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A Little Broken


Breaking the Fourth Wall in Tiana Clark’s Poetry Workshop (10/06/17)

Background: My junior year of high school, the spring semester, was challenging in the friendship area. The reason behind the downfall isn’t big, but it hurt just as much. It wasn’t just because of a guy or school it was about how it all became too much. I can’t clearly say that I was depressed because I do not know. I can clearly say that I was sad and broken. In my church youth group, we were practicing and performing a skit to “Everything” by Lifehouse. The concept of this skit was that the main girl (played by me) was trying to get to Jesus while temptations of life and Satan kept pushing her down. I didn’t know this skit would have such a negative impact on me although it did have a good one as well. But the negative is what stays with me over 4 years later. In the skit, the main girl is handed a knife to cut her wrist and a gun, while trying to fight the Devil’s temptation of death. The cutting of her wrist is what stayed with me. The night before our last performance, I slightly cut my right wrist with (thankfully) a dull razor blade. That is what this poem is about. I am thankful that I came out on the other side. That is truly a time when I struggled the most.



My wrist slightly cut: not deep enough to leave a scar that is visible to others. A scar that sinks into the skin and stays but never rises to the surface. A scar that reminds the person but not the onlooker. The scar that saw the pain and hurt and felt it just as much. A scar that sinks. Do you really think I am talking about my invisible scared wrist? No. The pain, the hurt, the brokenness lies inside of me. Not just a wrist, but a heart, an eye, and a mouth. The pain, the hurt, the brokenness remains in me, but not visible to an onlooker.

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