a little shred of who I
used to be,
tucked fast away amid the
shambles of the person
I'd momentarily become.
Bound and gagged,
yet flailing-
struggling past the
pain and fear that ripped me
of joy.
of hope.
of control.
I see it,
but it's all so foreign to me now.
So mysterious.
I look upon it like a small child
might look upon a lightning bug-
Surely something this beautiful can't
be real.
But, part of me remembers it to
be true...
remembers it to make sense.
I can be happy...
even as I pick up the pieces.
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