I shall gather myself,
into myself again.

Not as I was,
but as I must become.

From the corners where I left parts of me,
quietly,
without notice,
I will call them home.

The frightened voice,
the aching memory,
the version of me that loved too much,
they all belong.

I shall take my scattered selves
and welcome them,
tenderly,
as one welcomes rain after drought.

And in the stillness that follows,
I shall put all the broken pieces
back together again.

Not to be the same,
but to be whole.