I wasn't always this way.
I was born a window pane.
Transparent. Translucent. Pure.
I received my first crack when
I was four and discovered Death.
I received my first stain when
I was thirteen and realized how much
I romanticized it.
Death was my first love.
My cracks are now innumerable.
My colors defy the spectrum.
When I was pristine, I was invisible.
My imperfections make me radiant.