Writing Prompt

i am made entirely of flaws stitched together by good intentions simply a mosaic of events and insecurities held together by the glue of good deeds and though my mind screams that i am simply an odd invention i understand that my flaws hiding in the shadows are not over powering my soft heart for even the glass mosaic of flaws and insecurities is not stronger than the glue without either, the beauty would simply not exist for i would not be whole without either just like a patchwork quilt of rather plain scraps of fabric made into beautiful warmth by captivating stitching i as well would simply be a tangle of thread, scraps of plain fabric, broken glass, and sticky glue. for the flaws and good intentions make up my soul. and either without the other would lose its beauty.

I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions. Though I find the courage to take necessary steps, Fear consumes me, trapping me in despair. My heart aches to close the wound, to stop the bleeding, Yet my actions fall short—my flaws are too overwhelming, Too many to count.

I attempt again and again to make the best of bad situations, To create an outcome that lifts the light higher. I try to lower the rope, Ensuring it reaches the bottom, To pull you back up, To fix my mistake. But I fail, I keep failing.

I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions. The road to Heaven seemed like a dead-end. Indebted my soul to a toxic deity, Whose jealousy isolates me—

Everyone is an enemy. He tells me he has a thousand celestial eyes—

That he will know if I build temples for other gods. I am made in his image:

An ego as high as the Tower of Babel, Heart as fragile as the walls of Jericho.

Slaughtered me like a lamb for wearing wolf’s skin, Hung in the butchery window As if to tell the world:

Look at my craftsmanship! Give yourself over to the machine—

You’ll realize humanity is its own hell.

I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions. A heart that wants to open wide and swallow whole Envelop you in the love I feel you deserve but havent yet felt Shower you in closeness and show you your gifts Make you feel love like you havent even dreamed After you’ve showered me in love and re-assuring words Caressed me, expressed the feelings that are firsts I finally feel safe to come out of my shell and give it all back to you Only to sense distance now. You’re not there holding my face anymore I havent heard those words of longing in a while Now I’m not sure If that was real, if it was true, if it still exists, was it a ruse Were you in lust, do you even know what you want Do you actually see me?.. Or have you scared yourself now out of fear for the reality of real love Please dont’t take our butterflies away.

“she is made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions.”

my heels click, click, clack on the floor as i show my possible buyer the new model.

“her fingers, 5 on each hand, are greed, sloth, pride, envy, and gluttony, while her wrists are lust and wrath. her chest and hips are manipulative, and her waist is ill-tempered. her feet are stubborn, her calves inconsiderate, her thighs jealous. her arms are disloyal, and she has humorless eyes, a conceited nose, and belittling mouth. her hair is pure arrogance.”

“and why,” my client asks, “would i want such a model? why would i want a model with only flaws?”

“because, the value is in the stitching, my friend. we use threads of pure intention, good intention, loving intention, to name a few.

“let me think on it,” he says, and walks slowly through the halls, observing the models we have on display.

i glance up at the flawed model. truly, it’s a feat of engineering. to use such contradicting elements was tough work, and we had almost given up. such a marvel, i think to myself.

but as i look in the mirror, the sinking feeling plummets through my insides. the same one that happens every time i show this particular model. because when i gaze into my reflection on the glass, all i see are fingers & wrists made of the 7 deadly sins. i see ill-tempered, jealous, and disloyal body parts. i see that my auburn hair is really pure arrogance, and my cherry red lips are belittling.

because when i look at this model, all i can see is an image of myself.

I am made entirely of flaws stitched together by good intentions. Something in my bones tells me I’m a rather inhuman invention. If you buried me alive you wouldn’t know the difference because you never paid attention. Give me clemency for my portrayal of the tension. And let me have solace for the sake of unnecessary redemption. But you stitched me this way and said it was to “teach me a lesson” And I guess that there’s many answers you won’t give to my question. “Is this the river you really want to be left in?

‘I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions’

She was conditioned to hate her body. To sell it. Red was temptation, greed, hate, anger and war. The mirror also depicted the ugly side.

It showed the scars. It showed the pain. It showed the burden or her burdens.

She cried for help. Many times. They listened but she was deaf. She walked alone. So she thought.

The scars you see are the marks that she calls her stripes. They are her journey.

Being brought up in a world of greed and anger is hard.

Whether that be childhood or from young adulthood. Trauma is trauma.

She was a phoenix. She had complex PTSD. It was complex. She called it her Pandora’s box.

She soon awoke from a slumber. She appreciated her body, the luggage it took around with her was so heavy.

Every mark, tells her story. It shows she is brave. She will conquer all. She is special but she is humble.

Wear those scars with pride. She gets it, cutting is releasing the pain, the abandonment. The hurt. But please stop, your cries for help are being answered.

Just listen, it’s your to you if you follow.

You know what they say It feels like a party everyday But not for Bertram! He is a dimond

“I hate kids” he may say But we love him anyway He is wonderful And also gay So that’s cool

I love him I don’t care what you say Slay the day away To Bertram from Quinn I love you pookie

When The world seems to be ending It never really does We as humans Know what loss Love Hope And fear are We as humans cannot begin to comprehend Time space or the relavance of anything When we make a mistake It puts a mark on our lives When we accoplish something great It paves our way to success We try to help anyone We fail to help everyone We strive for Peace We yearn for freedom And It all splits out from under our feet We truly are a puzzle of flaws We can never truly forget the mistakes But we can try to fix them Do we really are entirley made of flaws stitched together by good intentions

…

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I am made entirely of flaws Stitched together by good intentions Boundaries made by a machine Easily cut by those with shears Who care more about themselves Than those just trying to stay whole

I am entirely made of flaws Stitched together with good intentions Desperately hoping the flaws you see Don't drive you away While hiding the ones that certainly will Deep inside along the scarred and broken seams

I am made entirely of flaws Stitched together with good intentions Just please don't turn me inside out I finally found my home