Piecing Myself Together

What if… in this life,

we are broken again and again?

What if… we are disappointed,
over and over?

First post click here

What if… we are not shattered just once,
but many times before we can even stand?

We are broken, repeatedly—
then left behind, scattered
like pieces of a mosaic,
messy, undone, in ruins.

We are disappointed, endlessly,
without ever hearing an apology,
without ever being given an explanation.
We are left to wander
inside feelings we never asked for—
left to feel unloved, unwanted, unseen.

And when we are broken,
we are no longer just split in two.
We become three, four—
or even more.

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Every joint within us snaps.
Our fragile soul,
once holding the smallest hope,
is crushed.

Our scattered dreams
are carried far away by the wind.

And still—
in our brokenness,
we wait for the ones who broke us
to come and save us.

We wait for apologies
they never truly mean.
We wait to be healed
by those who never realized
they were the ones who hurt us.

So what becomes of us, then?

Those who broke us
will never piece us back together.
Once shattered,
we will never be the same again.

Those who disappointed us
will never heal us.
Even when the wounds stop bleeding,
the pain—
and the scars—remain.

Those who broke us apart
will never make us whole again.
No one will spend their time
stitching every joint,
rebuilding every fragment
just to make us look whole.

No one can fix us
but ourselves.

I am ready to become Frankenstein.

I will piece myself together,
no matter how broken I am.
I will stitch every wound,
every scattered limb,
every shattered part of my soul.

I will learn
how to rebuild myself—
the way I was always meant to.

If the rain comes again,
I will fasten an umbrella above my head.

If the storm returns,
I will carve my footing
on ground that cannot be destroyed.

If I must turn upside down,
I am ready—
to place my feet where my head should be,
or my hands where my feet once stood.

It’s okay.

Every meeting leaves something behind.
Every goodbye leaves questions
too big to answer.

And every day,
something will be taken from us.

But that’s alright.

Because now,
I finally know
how to piece myself back together—
and become whole again.

PS: The Merangkai Aku label will hold my journey—my attempt to heal old wounds and rediscover who I used to be. It may carry a lot of sorrow, perhaps even stories I’ve never told before. I’m not trying to reopen old wounds or speak badly of anyone. I’m trying to validate the feelings I once kept denying. I’m trying to find the roots of the trauma and the wounds that never truly healed.

Because I want to become a good mother—for a four-year-old child who looks to me for protection.