Putting Myself Back Together

Putting Myself Back Together

I gather the pieces I once dropped in silence,

in rooms where my name no longer sounded the same.

Each fragment remembers a different version of me,

Still warm with breath, still aching to belong.

Some parts were taken, others I handed away,

Trust wrapped neatly in someone else’s hands.

I believed in the shape we were becoming,

And did not notice myself growing thin.

There were nights I spoke softly to the dark,

As if it might answer with something kind.

The mirror held a face I half recognised,

Waiting for courage to return its gaze.

I am not broken beyond repair or reason,

I am paused between who I was and who I remain.

The cracks are places where light learned my name,

Teaching me how to stand without leaning.

I press each piece back where it always belonged,

Not rushing the fit, not forcing the edges.

Patience becomes the truest form of love,

Given at last to the one who endured.

What I rebuild now carries my own signature,

No borrowed promises, no borrowed pain.

Every breath feels earned and fully mine,

Anchored in truth, steady and awake.

When I rise, it is quieter than before,

No need to prove the strength I carry.

I walk forward complete in my becoming,

Whole, not because I was saved, but because I stayed.