There’s nothing maladroit about

picking up your broken pieces

It may be a war that rages within your bones

It may be thoughts that scatter like rotting teeth after a bar fight

It may even be frozen breath- too strangled to scream

It may be untold pressure – crushing all reason from thought

But it is the process of ‘becoming’

It is the crafting of a new mind

It is the creation of a new narrative

It is making of a diamond

-as you are jigsawed

into new perfection

©Vivian Zems

Real Toads- Maladroit

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