pieces

if the split shards of
bone and human tissue can
heal and be renewed —
how come my mind struggles so
hard with its own brokenness?

This is fairly elegant, maybe a bit too elegant, given the subject matter. It doesn’t reflect the turmoil in me. Last night’s dream involved different members of my family and my partner’s, trying to get along. Every step was fraught. It dawned on me as I wrote my poem that this state of brokenness symbolises me.

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