Fragmented Self

[Juniper]

pieces of myself scattered on the ground,

this is my burden to bear.

so I began picking them up alone, and stitching them back together.

eyes focused on fragments of the past,

I didn't notice as they cut my hands,

or as the world passed me by.

My blood stains the sand and I don't even know where it comes from,

drink it like sustenance,

eager to consume, be consumed,

as long as it makes me feel whole - a part of something.

the picture gets a little clearer,

and I don't like what I see.

this self-doubt will eat me alive, and as I finally look inwards,

I come to realize there's a reason I left myself behind.

edit: my cutesy images broke and im not fixing them, but enjoy the prose

[Juniper]

One of the strangest things about humans is how we seem exempt from the normal cycle of life. Animals either escape or they die. Their stressors don’t haunt them. They don’t keep them up at night. They adapt. It's built into them. But what are humans hard-wired to do? We chase down our demons… we make them our theme. And then we repeat them, over and over. What are we practicing for by repeatedly putting ourselves in these situations? To what end do we torture ourselves? To prove to ourselves that we can do it. To finally overcome our largest obstacles. To self-actualize.

---

walls on all sides, cold and damp – how long did I live in those caves?

we share rice, and stories, and a bed sometimes. it's all fleeting, but I'm piecing it together.

it's so familiar, it's almost sickening. I can remember feeling like this before.

each night alone is a firm punctuation, like I can't stand the idea of being alone.

every ending is always bitter. I know I can't change this situation,

I built these four walls to keep me consistent, but I have to change myself.

but consistent doesn't make for a flexible mind – so I will leave myself.

consistent didn't bode well for those restless legs. just like I did before –

Can you guess what I did next? that's right. I ran.

[Juniper]

Dear mother,

Do you even exist? I left home today, for the third time. What is home like? Did I have friends? Was it warm? Was it dark? Did I do good things? Was I a good person? Was I a good daughter? Was I your daughter? Did someone love me? Did someone hurt me? I don’t know why I keep doing this. Why didn’t I stay? Do you know what made me leave? Can you tell me? Can you tell me? What’s wrong with me? Who did this to me? I found a group of people, I think they can help me. Did anyone care? Was it worth staying? Is it worth hurting over? Is it worth remembering? Is it worth starting over? Someone helped me once, and it felt good. Can I do that for others? Can I help others? Can I heal others? Can I uplift others? Can I fix others? Can I save others? I think I want to be able to do that. How do I do it? How should I do it? How could I do it? How could I not do it? I’d probably be really good at it, and I think it would be good for me. What’s best for me? Is it okay to think about me? How do I become the best version of me? How do I make this worth it for me? The more I think about it, the better it feels. How do I get better? How do I get healthier? How do I get stronger? How do I get smarter? How do I get kinder? How do I get softer? Maybe I’ve found where I’m supposed to be.
I think I’ll keep at it.
Love you,
Juniper