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Broken art: a poem about self-love

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

An image showing Gabby in a blue jumper holding a cup with orange flowers in the background.
Gabby Olivero

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