Kintsugi

When pottery breaks,

it can be fixed;

some even say

the final product’s beauty

far outweighs the original.

***

Held together,

with gold highlighting these pottery scars.

***

Something from nothing,

was a story that followed me

like the blanket that followed the boy,

fixed and mended,

growing from a blanket, to a hat, to a button,

growing together.

***

I value this mindset.

***

And so all my life

I tried to fix people,

like I did with objects.

***

I expected that a dash of creativity,

the right words strung together —

might change someone.

***

Might protect me for real,

if I did it right

***

Sadly,

it took me decades,

it took me 99% of this life,

to learn that unlike objects

you cannot fix people.

***

You can create the space and environment

in which it’s easier

to make change,

to develop new habits.

***

But you cannot fix

someone,

unless they are

a willing participant.

***

I cannot fix

my abusive mother

no matter how much

my father

insists

that it is my duty

to stop her violence.

***

I can only fix myself

to put together the shards

that have shattered

as she repeatedly smashed

my dream to smithereens.

***

My dream to be safe.

***

I can only offer up

the space and environment

the boundaries, expectations

to guide her behaviours,

but only if I feel safe.

***

I am a fixer.

***

I am a good fixer.

And I fix and upcycle objects;

I mend myself.

That is the line.

***

This poem was inspired by a few things.

First, the concept of Kintsugi, where golden resin is used to mend pottery. First and a half, the concept of upcycling old materials destined for the trash into functional, beautiful day to day items. I value

Second, I am inspired by poet Jay Avery for his poem Kintsugi.

Finally, to IU’s song “Bbibbi”, a song about boundaries. The concept of boundaries has changed my life in terms of managing previously ongoing abuse. Thank you to IU, who has grown with me across the decades.

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***

This piece was first posted here. Since then, not much has differed. I still hold to these values. Perhaps the metaphor is more engrained in me, more natural to say. When I first wrote this, it felt very raw, very new, like a foreign language. Now, I am fluent. And that's growth.