Written by Gabby Olivero
Hi all! My name is Gabby and below is a little something I wrote recently. I journal most days, and a lot of inspiration for my poetry comes from all the jumbled up thoughts that I iron out in my pages. I feel like every time I write, I’m learning more and more about myself, and realising we’re all just kind of figuring stuff out as we go.
That’s what this poem is about. Being unafraid to get to know yourself, all of you. And a lot of the time it’s not pretty, it’s not fun, it’s damn hard. But growth and healing are not finite processes (the limit doesn’t exist!). We are always going to be learning from ourselves and from this life. I think it would be kind of weird if we didn’t change at all.
We’re our own harshest critics, in a world that can be harsh enough as it is. We owe ourselves kindness to our minds. We owe ourselves acceptance. We owe ourselves peace with who we are.
So, this poem is a celebration of self-love. It’s a love letter to myself. It’s a story about a work in progress.
I hope you enjoy xo
Broken art
I am broken art
But art in its many forms
Is still beautiful to someone
Still beautiful to many someones
And still beautiful to me
Maybe I will forever
Be swapping and changing
The pieces to fit
And find new pieces
The parts that looked missing
And they’ll fill empty spaces
I’ll give them permission
And maybe then I’ll find a frame
Proudly put myself on display
A masterpiece even I would stop
To look at and think it’s phenomenal
I’m learning it’s taken years
For these pieces of me to shatter
That I could never expect to bundle them up
In one fell swoop
And suddenly feel I matter
I’m learning to give myself time
Give myself space
Let myself feel what needs to be felt
And release what doesn’t
At my own pace
I’ll open myself up to better things
All of me; the good the bad
I’ll accept myself for who I am
And for all that I am going to be
With new brush strokes and fresh gold leaf
And sparkles woven into this tapestry
The tapestry that is me
That is this broken human
Finding out that all the broken parts
They still find a way to keep me going
To keep me singing
To keep me glowing
Maybe I’m not so broken
Maybe broken parts heal stronger
I won’t discard them
I’ll hold them close
I’ll sit with them a little longer
We don’t look at a sunset
And think
It’s a shame about that cloud
Sometimes actually
The cloud makes the whole sky
More vibrant than without
I used to think being the cloud
Could only be a bad thing
But I was looking too closely
If I am the cloud, I too am
The dusty pink sky
The sun resting for the day
As it kisses the horizon
For the billionth time
I am the waves crashing
Up and down the seashore
I am the burnt orange watercolour
That sweeps across, adorns
The sky, the air, the sides of buildings
I am the golden hour
I am the prettiest shower
Of colours that fade into the night
I am broken art
But art in its many forms
Is still beautiful to me.
About the author
Gabby lives in Gibraltar and works as an Optometrist. She is passionate about baking and fitness and loves to explore the world. You can say hello to Gabby on Instagram at @gabby8_x
