I gave you the precious pieces of me,
The ones I didn't want the world to see.
I trusted you to hold them carefully—
These intricate, delicate pieces of me.
Woven into the seams of my identity,
Each part is a fragment of who I could be.
But bit by bit, they slipped away,
Scattered in the echoes of yesterday.
Perception blurred, my world askew,
Identity fractured, unsure of what's true.
Emotions unravelled, I fought to cope,
Cognition strained, yet clinging to hope.
Engagement faltered, connections grew thin,
Self-awareness whispered, "Rebuild within."
So now I gather the pieces again,
Not broken, but patiently trying to mend.
Each one a lesson, a scar, a friend,
A story to tell, a truth to defend.
Delicate, intricate, essential to be—
Reclaiming the precious pieces of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem