I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions.
I’ve always simply wanted to be a good human being.
But how can you fulfill a wish like that with a history of scars?
So instead of healing, I’ve spent my life on the run bleeding.
My flaws don’t define me, but they disrupt my relationships.
I could never figure out how to be whole, how to be normal.
But how could I be whole when ...