Broken Angel-Memoir by Kimberly Morrow

It seems the past few months I have purposely preoccupied myself with meaningless time. That is more than likely the reason I was abruptly awakened this morning. My thoughts had nowhere else to manifest except for the keypad of my laptop.

For not being much of a reader when I was younger I find it odd to find myself sitting down day after day writing my own novel.

I hardly consider myself a brilliant author who can analyze quantum physics in three different languages. However, I am a truthful writer and that is what gives my words life. Somehow my emotions flow fluently from my mind to my fingers into this electronic diary.

It was sometime in January this year when I came up with the idea for Broken Angels, Memoirs of Kimberly Morrow. Funny how my own idea fascinated me. My first entry was vague but personal. As the months passed I began to vision actual angels and shortly thereafter, I began to research what a broken angel really was. Somehow it all came together and I was pleased with my direction.

I usually avoid speaking in first person because it opens the door my vulnerability. It's a non-fictional story that reveals everything that I am or once was. I could speak of an angel and an encounter that related to me but there was still a wall between me and the reader.

Truth is, when I write about broken angels, I am really speaking of my personal experiences. My definition of a broken angel is a mirror image of who I am inside but with an anonymous name-tag.

Someone once told me that "What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger." There is definite logic to the saying because life can sometimes hand us a plate that is already too full.

I admit that love is my weakness and has been since I was very young. Lacking will power doomed me from the beginning. I planted seeds in my garden of dreams and it was devastating to see some of those dreams literally disintegrate right before my eyes.

There were so many pieces to pick up and I had no idea where to place them. It was humanly impossible; Like filing in alphabetical order with no letters in a dark and abandoned library with no windows.

The quote, "it is better to have loved than never to have loved at all," is a pathetic order of words in my opinion. It's a saying that has done me no justice yet sounds pretty when I wanted to change a subject and quickly. Those words were like a get out of jail free card when avoiding having to explain my loss in detail.

I would have been happier never to have loved before because once I lost love, I lost a part of myself. It felt more physical then emotional because every part of me hurt. It felt like someone had died and then passed the suffering on to me. It was the most horrific feeling I had ever felt. How on earth could something that once made me so happy now make me so miserable?

The darkness seemed to comfort me more than the light. Hours upon days I would wonder around like a lifeless zombie able to function but not able to feel. There were times when I couldn't even cry because there were no more tears left. I lost months of my existence because I was still in denial. I didn't want to believe that everything I believed in had failed me.

Food had no taste and life lacked excitement. I found no pleasure in the things that once pleased me. All inspiration was put on hold and silence filled my soul that once was filled with melodic music. All was lost and all seemed hopeless. Unfortunately, there is no exact date when all the pain would magically subside should the day even arrive.

So yes, I am broken although I wear an armored suit that nothing can pierce. Time doesn't always heal all wounds it just buys time for a person to figure out how to co-exist with the eternal pain. For I feel even in death, I will never be free.


It doesn't matter how strong I am because I will always be a broken angel. Everyone has been broken at one time or another and there will always be a sad love story for someone to write about.



Entry from Broken Angels-Memoirs of Kimberly Morrow
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