Broken

Day to day
I ask myself
Am I broken?
Is the reason
I hate myself
Because somewhere
In my life
A part of me shattered?
But as I recall,
I've always been like this.
Insecurities have burned inside me
For as long as I had the ability to self identify.
So again,
I ask myself,
Am I broken?
But how can something be broken,
If it has always been in that condition?
Is that how it's supposed to be?
Is this how I am supposed to be?