Incomplete
You tell me incomplete stories.
I listen hard, but I don't understand.
Bits and pieces- broken and fragmented...
Perhaps that's how they come to you.
Jagged shards of memory
cutting through your mind, your soul.
I try to reassure, reaffirm,
rebuild these blocks that have fallen to rubble.
But some would rather remain as dust,
scraps, pieces of a long, lost puzzle.
So I stand, heart open.
I will not push. I will not chase.
I will listen and be a friend.
I will take you and your stories
and accept
that incomplete
is where you find yourself.
I listen hard, but I don't understand.
Bits and pieces- broken and fragmented...
Perhaps that's how they come to you.
Jagged shards of memory
cutting through your mind, your soul.
I try to reassure, reaffirm,
rebuild these blocks that have fallen to rubble.
But some would rather remain as dust,
scraps, pieces of a long, lost puzzle.
So I stand, heart open.
I will not push. I will not chase.
I will listen and be a friend.
I will take you and your stories
and accept
that incomplete
is where you find yourself.
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