the scattering, and the coming back together.

the wind was loud last night, and my whole city was covered in a fine layer of ash. fires raged somewhere. the sky was dark as i sat listening to the wind; even within the walls of my room, through a locked door and a faraway mind, i could feel it’s gusts. it rocked me back and forth, all of my disjointed pieces rattling with the sound of the rustling leaves. i could feel the held breath of the the vast tree giving cover to my small safe haven far above, as it both held on and let go all at once. i thought i too could learn to live this way.

just like the leaves at the turn of autumn, i have been feeling myself scattering slowly. slowly, slowly, but vastly and deeply. i scatter late at night when pieces of myself decide that i was never sick to begin with, that i do not deserve this facade of wellness that seems to hold me hostage, while other pieces feel more and more lost the less and less lost i seem. i scatter late at night when some of my pieces wish my soul to be again that empty shell, while other pieces feel so tainted and broken that they believe there’s no point at all to this both void and crushing life. i scatter late at night when i pull out the scale i’ve stolen and kept hidden for months, just so that with a shivering body and cold bare feet i can deepen my hatred. i scatter late at night when i sift through the not one, two, but twelve razor blades buried beneath my socks just to find the sharpest. i scatter late at night when i’m nothing and everything with my pieces traveling in a million directions all at once. and this is where i have to choose to come back together. because, as one of the bravest soul i know told me just yesterday, alive does not mean no longer hurting, but rather taking the unimaginable hurt and turning it into bravery.

and some days i feel braver than others. sometimes, most of the time, a meal plan followed with unnoticed courage in an unnoticing world is bravery enough. sometimes, most of the time, living in this body of mine is bravery enough. sometimes, most of the time, it’s enduring with the scattered pieces and the coming back together that is bravery enough.

and so, time and time again, with the world dark and the leaves falling and holding on and falling and holding on, i come back together. i come back together watching the little prince, knees up and leaning against the knees of a soul who’s bravery i hold so unfathomably dear. i come back together pulling angel cards cross-legged on a soft couch and hearing the universe speak. i come back together through mugs of tea and the moments i ask my mum quietly for hug. i come back together nestled in warm sweaters, piece of dried papaya in hand, putting words into this blog.

i may scatter, but i too can come back together. i am the embodiment of one wholehearted learning process. i am holding on, i am letting go. i am scattering my pieces, i am aligning my soul. i am falling apart, and i am coming back together. 

so no matter how scattered you feel your pieces to be, come back together with me?

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2 thoughts on “the scattering, and the coming back together.

  1. beautiful birdy. i feel the same way. over and over and over we shatter – and over and over and over we must collect the pieces and hold them tenderly to our chests and cling to them like the next sunrise. stay strong x

    Liked by 1 person

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