What happens when life comes at you
Like a baseball bat to the body,
Dangerously rearranging your insides
As if it were mismatched clockwork cogs?
Your body is brought to its feet,
Still upright and standing,
Badly battered and bruised—
The scars remind you that you are alive.
Yet they don’t see the damage
And what is under the hood,
They don’t see the scattered parts
And what has been misplaced.
But when all has fallen apart,
What choice do you have
Other than to pick up the pieces
And put yourself back together?
We’re rewired through suffering,
But not everyone has the will
To overcome broken kneecaps,
And debilitating beat-downs.
It’s a scary thing to try and fix you,
When there is no instruction guide
To properly repair what was broken,
Or throw away and replace with new parts.
I have slowly put myself back together,
But the anger coursing through my veins
And the never-ending fatigue
Has left me in frustration.
Among the fights against my faults,
I wonder whether I rewired myself right;
Whether there is beauty in my breaking,
Or whether the beauty in me has been broken.
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