This poem was written in 2022, many of my posts are in draft form, with intention of posting but never did. it’s time to reveal, it’s a continued journey to heal and if the healing is a forever journey so be it.

I am fragments of a past and present, I am broken pieces of crockery and torn materials
I am suffocating in the space that is. I am breathing through the reflections of the past.
Guilt, trauma, anger, loss, containment, love, understanding, empathy
I am trying, trying to remember who I once was, who I am meant to be.

The words flow, and I hear a response. Ask me to repeat what was spoken, how I felt
I cannot echo the words, respond to the moment, breathe into space.
I cannot be. Inhale, exhale. I cannot or chose not or ignite myself to be.
I do not show up for you, for me, for the moment.

I hold a fragment of a memory in my hand, it feels lost, broken, sorrowful
You cannot fathom the loss, the hurt, the emptiness I feel
I am whole and yet hole-less, I am here yet anonymous. I am present, yet universally lost.
How did this happen, how did you not see, how?