What are humans made of?

What are humans made of? She said we are all made of glass. That we break upon contact with reality, but that's to be expected after we fall from our expectations. She said we are all fragile and weak. She said that we will never be the same after we put our selves back together. That there will always be pieces missing. That shattered glass is never quite as strong. She said that there's no glue strong enough to fix a person, no kind enough words, no potent enough medication. She said I was broken. That I was deluding myself upon the fantasies I was fed, the fantasies I created. She said that people aren't meant to be fixed after they break. She said we're broken things.

I said I screw that. Fuck that. I am made of fabric and fur, stuffed with cotton and feathers. And yeah, my seams split and burn, but that never infers that I cannot be put back together. When I fall apart I can stitch myself together. I can pick and replace, new buttons for eyes, and they get prettier every time. And these patches are both something cute as well as undeniable proof that I have been through hell. That I have been hurt, that I have loved, that I have survived. So when I fall apart, I don't accept it as a matter of course, I fix it.

I'm a broken wing, not a broken thing.

And neither are you.​