These Mixed-Up Pieces, Part II
The flames don’t last forever,
I tell myself, stitch the sinews and put each piece of china back in place.
I am a mosaic of mixed up pieces,
Of scars and lines and my life,
Tattooed to my heart like the sun across the sky, my story smoothed by time and a thousand eyes reading, reading.
I am a painting, built from layers, scrubbed over and made clean to be built again.
I am a survivor.