Piece by piece

There are pieces of myself scattered around the this city.

Pieces i've picked up, and then dropped again.

Pieces, that i thought i'd never find again.

Pieces, missing.

Pieces that i've picked up, that seem new, and i'm just trying to figure out how they all go together again.

There are parts that are rounded, and I forget they don't hurt to pick up anymore, but i still pick them up carefully, waiting for the finger prick, or sting, from wounds from the people who i thought would be different.

sometimes between look for, and gathering, the scattered pieces i let doubt creep in like a cold front of confusion.

it stops me in my tracks, make me forget, circles my head like a satellite, forever orbiting my head, trying to get to my heart.

It's stalled me. It's taken away the best parts of me, and i'm trying to find them again.

those parts sparkle, they glitter when there's even a hint of sunshine.

hope.

So i follow the light out of the storm. Because they things about weather is that it's always changing. The cold doesn't stay forever.

The sun comes out again but sometimes winter is just long.

But spring is coming. It always does, and it never disappoints.

so i'll continue to collect myself like bread crumbs on the way back to myself. My reflection will look a little different, how can it not?

But the right pieces are still there and the center, anchoring me, reminding me, not letting me blow away completely when the wind threatens to scatter all my pieces again.