I once heard
a man say,
“Though I’ve
never
been broken,
I too
know how to
pick up
the pieces.”
He tells me this
as I’m sitting
in rehab
for the third time
in two years,
trying to fix
a scattered
jigsaw mess.
I can’t trust
A man
Who’s never
destroyed
Something
he loves.
He doesn’t
know how to
reconstruct
himself
from aftermath.
I tell him,
“I am broken,
unrecognizably
smashed
by my own hands
destructive
tendencies,
and each time
I try
to put myself
back together
it gets more
difficult,
there’s always
another
missing piece.”
He simply says,
“There’s still
hope.”
I assure him
I lost
that piece
a long
time
ago.
Rusty Truck 