Mess

I am a mess

a tangled, jumbled, glorious mess

I am old hurts and new

scars fresh and faded and

somewhere in between

I am open wound in need of bandage

I am a mess

and I confess

that I love it

for my mess makes me me

and me? I’m all right

in spite of my brokenness

because in my brokenness I am healed

I learn

I learn lessons I would never have learned

if not for the break

the painful break

allows growth

strength

strength of body, mind, spirit

I am only strong because I am a mess

so I will continue to be messy

because it is the mess

the tangled, jumbled, glorious mess

that makes me

         me

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