The fragments from a previous wound 
Dance around and wait their chance
To shoot a sharp reminder

That they have never gone away
And that which does not kill me does not
Always make me stronger

Ev’ry step brings pain but still
It beats just sitting feeling less 
Distressed but more defeated

Expert hands and tunnelled scans
And listening ears and face my fears
And careful, slow repairs

Which pull the splinters one by one
Will never make me whole again
But may yet make it better

I know I need to stretch myself
It’s in my hands to learn to stand on
My own two feet again

But when at last I ask, I find
It also helps to have another’s
Expert tender care and skill

‘Cos that’s how these things operate
Working through a joint approach
To mend a mind or body

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