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Sep 2016
I could write a poem
About self-love and recovery
The rediscovery of happiness
Pulling something lovely from the poverty
Of picked-apart people.

Piecing themselves together
Bit by bit
Needle and thread ready
Stitch by stitch
But they don't fit
Into the people they used to be
The lives they used to lead

Every segment fragmented
Broken down into constituent elements
Never to be reassembled
Quite the same

And no that does not make me insane
I'm just a little different is all
Take me off the shelves
Product recall
Just catch me as I fall
From the pedestal you placed me on

I am not wrong
Not broken
Just faulty sell me for forty
Percent less than retail price
I'm still alive

You see it doesn't make you any less
If you can't fit into the same old dress
The same old mould
You're solid gold
A little more, a little less,
You're worth millions.
This poem, as with most of my poems, is designed to be read aloud (spoken word/slam poetry) - you'll just have to imagine it being read in my dulcet tones, me of course being a stranger from the Internet. I began this poem in a very pessimistic place, in fact in a physical place that was a psychiatric unit (more of that to come), but it wasn't until a few months after my discharge that I returned to this poem and gave it the more optimistic ending it now bears.
Eileen Xu
Written by
Eileen Xu  Glasgow
(Glasgow)   
389
 
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