Reshaping Reality

Planning a quest for me.
It starts here, at this desk,
where my fingers tap keys.
A quest unlike most games,
where you seek a person,
an item, a theme.
No, my quest is myself.

First, I’ll dismantle me.
Rearrange and step back,
to see it all — good or bad,
murky or clear.

Those warped and dented pieces
scattered amongst the whole —
don’t keep any,
they just don’t fit anymore —
Long ago, quick fixes that worked once,
but now, they’ve pierced me through,
preventing growth.

Toss them out.
But what to replace?

Dig deep into softy, crumbling soil;
my fingernails scrap at some clay.
slowly, gently, mold a new piece.
One that’s healthy and open,
one that holds no walls
no defenses.
Simply a shard of trust and hope
to cement together what’s left.

One by one,
I’ll dismantle myself,
One by one,
I’ll rebuild.

All of my sour memories —
all of the pain,
fear, bad habits
that throttle my growth —

Throw them into a fire,
reforge into new materials,
recycling what I can,
and what I can’t —
I’ll just start anew.

One piece at a time.