There's Beauty in the Unbreaking

For healing isn’t bright or clean, It’s raw, it’s hard, it’s in between.

There’s beauty in the unbreaking,

in the standing still,

In learning that strength isn’t just force,

but will.

Not in the pushing, the fighting, the climb,

But in holding the weight

And still choosing time.

In sitting with sorrow,

In naming the pain,

In knowing I’ll

never be

quite the same.

But piece by piece,

I reshape, I grow,

Soft and scarred,

yet steady,

eventually maybe

even

whole.