Under Construction

I see the broken glass of myself
Strewn on the floor.
Glue in hand,
My bones are aching for cover.

And I pick up the tiny pieces first,
Little by little I’m rebuilding.
And when the shards get bigger,
Harder to maneuver
I leave them where they lie.

Another day, I say,
When my muscles have the strength.
But now I stare at all these big things
And lifting them again
Seems like an impossible task.

All that’s left is to embrace the hard,
But I want to stay in soft clouds,
Far from places that make me shatter.
Until I find a way
To put every fragment back in place.