Pieces

Peace.

Pieces.

Piecing together the truth

I’m no longer concerned with anyone else’s truth but my own

I might share a truth or two with you.

With someone new.

Someone familiar, yet still a stranger.

Strange thing: time

It’s definitely not linear

I’ve known things before the sparks, before the catalysts of war

Rough thing, soft thing

Passed down carbon and ice

Thin tattoos tell stories

Map moments across skin

I died again.