I was busy piecing together my fragmented soul
Each piece I pulled from the abyss frayed
Stitching them together with gentleness
The needle pricked my fingers once in a while
It hurt for a moment
And I continued until the frayed pieces fit perfectly well
Yes, I was busy piecing together my fragmented soul
Until it is whole again.
I was busy piecing together my fragmented soul
The merciless noise that must be endured
From the monologues in my head
The ifs, the whats, the whys
The insidiousness of betrayal fragmented my fragile soul
But there are no ifs and whats and whys
As in the end, I realised I have always been enough
There is so much beauty in the imperfections of the frayed soul made whole again.
