Your Broken Mess

I stand deep in the recesses of your shadow,

my feet firmly planted on the quicksand I mistake for solid ground.

I find my confidence comes from looking up, to the towering pedestal

I hold you on, like a cake topper above sugary dreams.

I see the fissure-like lines in your façade,

knowing you have placed your pieces in order securing them

with dignity.

I long to place my broken, jagged shards together,

just as perfectly as you have, returning them to a complete whole.

I look to your watchful gaze daily to draw strength,

that I may rise and wrap myself in tattered clothes only to follow

a ragged map along a beaten path.

I wonder if you once knew the demons that now fight,

did you drag yourself to your feet only to find overgrown paths and

mislabeled roads?

I find the courage to access the throne I have made for you,

intent on asking for your wisdom and direction,

all too sure that you hold the key.

I approach with reverence only brushing the tower you grace,

In a cruel twist of fate, CRASHING, TUMBLING,

FALLING, CASCADING……

The structure I thought so solid, lay crumbled around me,

never did I fathom that it, no, that you were so fragile,

so real, so human.

We sit face-to-face in the broken mess that is your past.

surrounded by choices, mistakes, humiliations,

regrets and pains that make up you.

All these wounds are ripped open, in plain view, exposed, and raw,

you drop your eyes from mine, ashamed, embarrassed,

doubting yourself once again.

When you glance up to meet my gaze,

you expect to see the disappointment you have seen

on faces silhouetted in the past.

You expect me to push away from the rubble and from you,

walking away, disgusted by your broken mess,

by your past, by what it took to become you.

Instead you find a sense of awe in my eyes,

openness in my heart and warmth in my smile

that you have helped to place there.

You find the reflection of your wholeness in the mirror of me,

the unconditional acceptance in the very lessons

I have learned at your feet.

I am not shocked by your pain, your scars do not disgust me,

your past does not deter me, instead I am encouraged

by your strength and by your perseverance.

I look to you with a thankful gaze, reaching for your hand,

we begin to place our jagged pieces in order, together,

methodically, bonded, and made whole

by the strength of friendship and guidance.