Kintsugi: What Broke before the Gold

Some stories are told after the healing. This one isn’t. These poems come from the long, unfinished middle, where a body still feels like something to apologize for, where anxiety and depression don’t resolve on schedule, and where getting through the day is its own quiet achievement. There’s no tidy arc here, no moment where everything clicks into place. Just honesty about what it costs to keep going, and what it looks like to still be standing in the wreckage, gold nowhere in sight yet. For anyone waiting on their own repair. This is proof you’re not the only one.