my mess

i really like this one. this just feels like my writing. like i love love love love love love this poem to no end. i’ve just read it back so many times and every time i love it more.

i’m like “yes natasha good work girl”.

anyway, it’s my birthday on tuesday. i’ve been writing a lot, not poems so much, but keeping the whole ‘write everything everything and everything down’ thing up and i enjoy it, but the trees hate me for it ☺️ yeah, so , what that has to do with my birthday is nothing but hey ho just wanted to share.

cover photo is me sneezing as a baby, you’re welcome.

song: waistline - faze wave

no one can pick me apart.

‘why?’

my mess is completely my own,

i have engineered with mathematical

accuracy,

every downfall i have encountered.

i pushed myself down the stairs,

and rebuilt them myself.

i relocated my shoulder,

clicked and crunched

my bones back into place

i yelled as i realigned a spiral fracture,

and stuffed my mouth with cloth

to hamper my whimpers as

i put together my disintegrated flesh.

but if you look a moment closer,

touch my healed flesh,

and the scars on my back,

you’d feel the warmth.

warm and soft feathers;

ruffles and whispers and smiles.

my Angels put me back together,

gave me knowledge of operations

i didn’t know.

“that’s it,” they would whisper,

“you’re okay.”

and i would cry and cry

and write about sunsets and rain.

i am still picking up the pieces.

cleaning a mess i created.

wondering where i scattered myself to

hide from my own healing,

wondering which Parts of me

have hidden where

and wishing someone would draw me a

map,

overflowing with gratitude when i realise

i am incomplete,

destined to be flawed,

yet perfectly Whole at the same time.

i am every version of me i have

ever been,

i am every drink i have enjoyed and every

person i’ve made laugh,

every word i have written and

every tear i wish i could shed.

i am everything that never happened,

and i am every wish i have lost,

i am every train of thought that crashed,

and every time i’ve stifled laughter.

i am an actualisation

of everything i am, was,

could have been, and ever will be

i am Everything i Am,

and i owe it all the Angels

who gave me the thread

to sew myself back together.