torn at the seams.
The pieces of yourself untethered from each other, no longer bound as one. They float from your grasp.
The last bit of mental strength is the only bandaid you have at your disposal.
If only you possessed the energy to stick it on before it’s all too far away.
Instead of healing, you bleed. Instead of coping you fall.
Unadulterated chaos seeps from the wound, from the rip in your being that may as well be a rip in the space-time continuum because nothing makes sense anymore, nothing is the way it was before or the way it should be or the way you want it to be. It’s all nonsense.
Instead of searching for meaning, you give up.
But as the chaos continues to seep out, the suffering follows suit. The anger, the pent-up frustration, the impossible uneasiness, the terrible hurt…it spills out.
The faucet is open and has no regard for what flows from its pipes. There is no discernible sifting of contents.
You are cleansed, baptized by the very goo that was inside of you.
It was meant to be. The ripping inevitable (for better or worse).
Why was the seam there to begin with
if not to bring all the pieces together?
It’s a fine line, the seam, and representative of a dichotomous relationship between the part and the whole.
You see, portions of ourselves are stitched together like an elegant patchwork quilt, all gloriously different and all laced with poignant meaning. Some portions stay forever. Others, just for a time. That’s called growth.
The ripping was inevitable. Yes, it was certain to happen. But the universal consciousness that made certain it would happen had the benefit of a larger scope, and knew that it was for the greater good.
Sometimes you have to break to understand these things. Sometimes you have to be ripped apart, undone, torn at the seams in order to heal, because how the hell else are you supposed to figure everything out? After all, muscles are built by tearing and regrowing, and scar tissue is thicker than skin untouched by pain. But the bottom line is that struggle is the needle and resilience is the thread and your pieces are your pieces, they will always be your pieces.
You put yourself back together, new.
The next rip or tear or undoing will come
when it needs to come.
And in the meantime, you know with clear assurance
that you are meant to be.