I feel like there are cracks all over myself.
I’m afraid if I make a move, I will break apart.
So I stay still.
Even then fragments of myself slide away from me.
I take a breath, calm myself.
Inch by inch I attempt to retrieve the pieces.
But which bits do I save first?
Some I rescue, others are too far away.
What do I do? How do I put myself back together?
Should I glue it tight?
Nail it shut?
Maybe I’ll tie it up and pretend I’m a gift.
Silently praying my body knows how to heal by itself.
Maybe one day I’ll find a way to function without these ropes anymore.
Maybe then I’d have found a way to patch up the missing parts
Or grow myself anew.
But even if I fail,
Would you mind if I’m not whole?
-23 February 2017
I was trying to paint a picture of my anxiety. When I wrote it, I meant it for a friend to illustrate it into a short comic, but we never got to do it.
I still feel this way from time to time. I don’t think it ever goes away.