Piece By Piece, I Become Whole


Piece by piece
I become whole.

First, my feet
They turn brave enough
To walk out the door
Into parts of myself that were waiting
With patience and compassion.

Second, my legs
They grow strong like trunks of trees
There to support the whispering leaves and flowering blossoms above them
They embody softness
And strength.

Then, my hips
They start to swing without shame
They dance
They twirl
They have a sunlit soiree.

Now, my belly
The center of my being
It tells me it is safe
That it will no longer wake up with an ache of emptiness
That it will be happy without drowning in red wine and vodka, and I can enjoy the pasta and bread.

Next, my lungs
They drink in the ripeness of the air
As the dust shakes off
And turns to sugar.

Now, my heart
My sweet, sweet heart
That has tumbled through the waves
And still beats inside of me
Red and juicy.
I’m not sure if my heart becomes whole
Because I realize
It always was.
I decide
That to have felt it all
Is wholeness.
My heart—
It can keep some of the pain.
That’s why the sun shines so bright
After days of rain
That’s why the piece of chocolate cake
Tastes so damn good.
My heart, it is whole
I’m sorry I forgot
It always was.

My lips emerge as the doorway from my soul to the world
And art flows out of them like snowmelt after an impossible winter.
My cheeks, they let the sun kiss them, and my nose takes in the smell of summer and fresh baked bread.
My eyes, they meet themselves in the mirror
And see a woman
Who has built wild beauty
Upon destruction.

Piece by golden, unruly, and beautiful piece
I become