Take your time. You need to look again and again
before giving something its name.

Wounds heal and pain disappears if you
just let it dry up on your skin;
it succumbs to nothingness from within
your cells creeping back through the gaps

Scars are but a memory and it cannot sting
Unless you let the bad thoughts gnaw upon you with their teeth.
If you only listen to your heart beating
you’d probably discover more melodies screaming louder
than the howls you make at night.

Your stomach has learned to laugh
despite the throbbing of your brain,
and your intestines dance and twist
along with your kidneys, in an ambivalent waltz.

Quietly, body parts busy themselves in playing different melodies
Harmoniously, like various instruments in a hidden orchestra
you are the conductor of.

Tell your fingers to stop counting your regrets
There are knots which cannot be undone.

But you can be certain that new laces are formed each time
a smile wipes across your chin;
tie them with wishes, with hopes,
with songs and poetry you wrung from your dreams

The palm of your hands will blush when filled
by the warmth of another
so don’t look for hollow spaces,
put those hands together.

You are about to become whole, slowly
surely, certainly like tomorrow comes anew.

Whatever fragment of you is lost, something
someone, somewhere, somehow
will drop like a gift from heaven
brimming over your black holes
and you will be complete again.