(This is a follow-up to my poem “Broken” from February, a prompted writing by my counselor. It’s not going to win any awards, but if you read Broken, you may be interested to read this.)

Unbroken

Broken as a child
by your hands,
I have spent my lifetime
reeling in the waves
and trying to patch myself up,
trying not to sink,
I thought I was unable
to be enough
for anyone,
not even me.

What I didn’t know:
my body is a self-healing vessel,
and though scar tissue
doesn’t always heal just right
to allow for full movement,
those scars held me together
and have their own special beauty.

Now I come to my life
bearing gifts from my
once-broken body:
high sensitivity,
strong empathy,
clarity of insight.
Gifts that I thought
were horrible flaws,
flaws that I thought
were ugly scars,
from a once-cracked,
but not broken,
body.

It’s a gift to see
beyond the scars,
to see inside
the grey walls of my mind,
and I see that
there are places in me
that you couldn’t reach,
there are things
that you couldn’t break in me
and colors
that you couldn’t take from me.

I can build a rainbow
of color in my mind,
a mosaic from
the million pieces of me.
I can be loving
and I can be loved,
I can laugh,
I can feel
and I can be kind,
I can learn
and I can adapt,
I can forgive
and I can move on,
I can be enough
for anyone,
even me.

(c) Sandi Adams
10.24.2013