This poem was inspired by P.A.S.T.A. (Poets and Storytellers Assemble) – a performance event run monthly at The Arena Theatre, Wolverhampton by @pandemonialists (Check them out on Twitter) – next months theme is ‘Cracks’, so I wrote this.
The cracks in my face don’t scare me anymore
Medals of laughter, love and those I adore
My emotions are plain to see, written all over
My face is exciting to me.
The cracks in my hands show me where I’ve been,
The hard work, the mistakes, and after all the hand creams
That I’ve used to keep them warm and pliable –
My hands are my tools, my hands are reliable.
The cracks in my heart are harder to take,
The tears, the loss, the biggest heartaches
It’s unique in its story, cracked and flawed,
My heart is unique in all its glory.
My cracks are just lines of history
They make up most of my life
They show you each and every mystery
They etch out all my strife
They’ve witnessed it all and they’ve made their mark
To commemorate who I’ve been,
Badges of honour, they are there for a reason
To put a stamp on the best parts of me.