It hurts—

stepping onto the jagged edges

that were thrown out into the wasteland.

It hurts

because I was thrown into the wasteland too.

I look down as blood flows.

I feel the pain.

I feel the heat.

But it’s okay.

I bandage the pain.

I cool the heat.

And I keep walking.

This place is filled with oddities—

things that weren’t accepted,

things that were unwanted.

I am here,

in a wasteland.

But all I can see

is beauty in every single piece.

I don’t understand

why anyone would throw these unique oddities into the wasteland…

or throw me into the wasteland.

But I see beauty in all of it.

I gather every piece,

and I create.

And I continue to create.

I might be in the wasteland—

but the wasteland is not hideous.

It is beauty,

and all of its oddities.

I will continue to create.

And I will continue to love.

What is odd and unusual

is beautiful and precious

to me.

Continue Reading: Compass