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.

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Day 30 – Imperfection

Imperfection

I watch the trees outside move in the breeze.

Their new blossoms flow lazy and smooth. 

This month moves faster than I ever thought it could,

And for the first time I do not look into the mouth of that lion called change,

As May ushers itself in.

Life is long and short,

And springtime is here in all it’s glory before I’ve really bid winter goodbye.

I watch the very first blooms of bleeding hearts in the backyard sway in the wind.

They are me, beautiful in our imperfection.