Her

She never wore her heart on her sleeves, afraid that some might break it,
afraid that they might figure the mystery that she was.
She always seemed to be wearing a thick cloak ,
that prevented the other from deciphering her, the mystery that she was clumsy and a chaotic mess.
Some might misunderstand her to be broken and that she needed fixing.
And only a few saw the light shining from within those cracks,
 the light that no one could deny.