A lovely piece of work.
I’m attracted to women the world says are broken.
They drink plenty of water, out of bottles and jugs. They’ve lived a hard life. Know what it takes to make themselves get up in the morning. I’m attracted to women who see their scars as blessings. Who fight daily to survive. To exist.
The world judges these women. Calls them reckless, lost. They’re not. They’re on a quest to find themselves, searching in cracks and crevices rarely visited by daylight. Turning over rocks and pawing through the damp, musky dirt, unearthing broken seeds, and crushed rotting leaves with insects dancing across them. These women sit and watch life, in all its forms. You’ll find them on bar stools and in alleyways staring at the stars, if they can find them though the din. Always watching, looking, a passive sort of quest.
The world which was shown them was harsh and cruel…
View original post 164 more words