My life is a motley compilation of jigsaw pieces

Composed of memories and minutes,

Every breath I take, every friend I make,

Every truth I write, every battle I fight

Are all transcribed in this puzzle of mine.

 

Some of my pieces are backwards, upside down, and broken.

Some are missing or from a different puzzle altogether.

 

I am not your run-of-the-mill-cookie-cutter jigsaw. I am a Picasso.

 

I have had my fair share of mistakes, my lot of searing words and unintentional friendly fire in the heat of the battle, but through my misguided blindfolded responses, I have learned that I am beautifully broken.

 

Maybe a design flaw is all that I am, all that I was, all that I ever will be, and maybe my many lonely pieces were never meant to meet.

But maybe, just maybe my mosaic of misplaced puzzle pieces is a stained glass window through which the human condition can be viewed.

 

Maybe I am meant to be a prism refracting beauty and light into the suffocating darkness that shrouds the weary and the discouraged.

Maybe I am meant to be more than a child's mistake on the kitchen table when the spilled milk really did make her cry because she thought her puzzle was ruined.

Maybe I deserve to be loved and to love, maybe I can be happy without guilt because I have been freed from my bondage to decay.

 

And maybe we're all a little broken, a little bent, a little bit afraid of this lions den. Maybe we can't quite get a grasp on how we're supposed to fit a function, how our shattered structure aids in the fruition of some master plan, but it does.

We matter.

 

So go out into this darkness and refract the light from inside your soul. Bathe this despair in your dazzling light, and bask in it, because this is what you were meant for.