Day 25 – The Things I Carry, Part 3

The Things I Carry, Part 3

I wonder why the phrase is I suffer
When it really should be I live

I have to learn to be okay with being a little broken
I have to take my time to heal and know my heart will never be the same.

We are meant to survive what we are given

So I say I live and not I suffer
Because to live with it means it is part of me
But I am part of it
I’ll go back and forth and sit with it
That’s all this is, it’s life

I will learn to love it

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Week 17 – I Could Write About the Rain

I Could Write About the Rain

I could write about the rain.

I could write about wet umbrellas,
About the keys in my coat pocket,
The puddles around the bean boots on my feet.

I could write about how for the first time in a long time, I am learning to trust my muscles.

I could write how I am learning, again, to swim.

Week 16 – These Mixed-Up Pieces, Part II

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.