Who am I?

Surrounded in darkness,

I search for myself.

A shattered mirror,

a broken glass.

All remnants of myself.

Whispers surround me,

asking who I am.

How do I tell them,

I don’t know

who I am

or what I’ve done.

Maybe I’m the glass,

broken and shattered.

No way of fixing myself.

But there’s a voice,

gentle and warm.

It says it’ll help?

The voice engulfs me.

It brings warmth to the cold

that I didn’t feel before.

It says it’ll help

me become myself again.

How does it know who I was?

It whispers encouragement

and guides me when I’m lost.

Maybe it really did know me…

When I remember

who I am,

the warmth doesn’t fade.

It grows stronger instead,

telling me it’s proud,

and I wasn’t broken all along.

I was simply lost,

and the glass was others

trying to discourage me.

I was never broken…

I just needed to find myself,

and help will always be there

to bring us to ourselves

if we ever need it

and if we accept it.