Broken girls

Poor broken girls, look at us, clinging to anything that moves. Swooning for flashy smiles and shiny eyes. Always so ready and willing to dive. We are ladies in waiting. Awaiting our turn to play and be played. Sitting on the bleachers scanning the room for a guy to pick us out of the crowd for a dance. Is it so preposterous to think that someone may actually show interest? We're broken and we know it so we think everyone else can see it too. We feel the need to settle for less because who would ever want us? Right? Nah. That can't be true. Pshhhhh. We're worth just as much if not more as any other unbroken girl. The trick is to convince ourselves. Instead we gamble on mind games and come up short. We put our trust in faulty plans then wonder what went wrong. Confident through the roof one moment then down and out the next. We bathe in self-pity while trying to look pretty. We look for this perfect 10 who doesn't exist because it's a distraction tactic we use so we don't have to commit. We find flaws in ourselves that aren't really there and look for flaws in any guy who comes near because we're terrified to be broken again. We're so afraid that he'll see the brokenness and leave before anything serious begins. Some days we're hopeful for love. Most days we wonder if it even exists. We walk along a crooked path aiming straight ahead. Life is a sad love song for broken girls. We sing along with every word like the song was written especially for us. We want so badly to believe that there is someone special out there. We yearn to breathe that breath of fresh air. We live in a bottomless pit of hope. What more is there to do than wait? It's hard to move around when you're broken and in pain. Somehow we get along anyway and find clever ways to disguise our broken souls. We smile like there's no tomorrow. We go out on pointless dates and give ourselves time and time again to men who aren't worth their weight. The only benefit we reap is the momentary affection we receive then it's back to sweeping up broken pieces like Cinderella except we don't end up with a lucky fella. Broken girls are fascinating creatures. Our lives are like kaleidoscopes made from all of our broken parts, reflecting light in the dark portraying glimmers of hope. We somehow are able to stay afloat in the flood of our own tears. We remain positive through the stormiest of atmospheres. We wrestle with our doubt until we are victorious. We hang effortlessly by the last thread like a ribbon dancer on a stage. We hold onto the last glass shard until we see bloodshed. We are the girls who stay put until the very last song has been played. We stay to the end of everything or else what's the point? Beautiful broken girls, look at us, waiting for the day when someone comes along and makes us whole again.