Feel and Fall Apart

Once upon a time, long ago,
lived a girl behind a mask of snow
porcelain pale as moonlit glass,
pressed to trembling skin so no one could ask.

She feared the breaking more than night,
feared that cracks would bring to light
only ruin, shadows, tender seams—
a softness fragile as forgotten dreams.

So she smiled through borrowed grace,
each day a careful, practiced face.
But masks are made for stillness kept,
and hearts are made to beat, not rest.

Under weight of sorrowed years,
the porcelain split, then fell with tears.
She braced for scorn, for love to flee—
yet in the ruin, something breathed:
small, green, stubborn, softly bright,
rooted deep in hidden light.

From shattered shards rose wildflowers bold,
petals feeding on cracks she’d long controlled.
Broken places caught dawn’s gleam,
turning scars to stained glass dreams.

Then she saw what no spell could show:
that softness is strength the brave may know,
and imperfection, far from bleak,
is the language only true hearts speak.

The breaking she had feared the most
became her quiet, gentle growth—
and in the garden grown from pain,
she met herself, unmasked, unchained:
unfinished, tender, fierce, alive—
and lovelier than she’d ever dared to write.

It’s ok to fall apart ml. You were never meant to hold it all together.

Also, me and my lovely friend Zia Barti have a story together featuring this poem if you’d like to give it a look. Have a wonderful day!