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Prose Challenge of the Week #49 : Use this sentence to inspire your piece of poetry or prose: "We are all broken." The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and will be placed first on our Spotlight page and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
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Lindsey

I know it looks like some people are forged with iron and others are delicately sculpted porcelain. I know some have sturdy American steel shoulders either holding up the sky or curled around a lover and others have glass hands either clenched in objection or outstretched in warm welcome. But no one is pure in composition. Those that were born fragile have been so chipped and fractured and sometimes shattered that they wrap themselves in something less susceptible to contact, some ferrous carapace to ward the core. And sometimes it requires more, a concrete cloak or a titanium suit all layered up on that not-up-to-code scaffold. Those that were born titanic were still prone to damage, their unwavering, detached characters could not properly fathom tenderness and vulnerability. Their metal cores were dented and dinged by trying to carry too much without something soft to fall on at the end of the day. So they wrap themselves in something more supple, more graceful and breakable so they can learn the lovelier feelings available. They're all layered up with china and marble and bound with canvas so yes, they can be torn but yes, they are permeable. Either one is dressing their cracks and splinters, either is broken too.