Old Patterns

Patterns bend me.
They do not break me.
I undo the ones that do not serve me.

I do not collapse.
I do not fix.
I do not disappear.

I feel the ache,
the space between fine and broken,
and I rest there, calm.

In the quiet aftermath,
my body and mind align.
I am.
I hold the calm.
I feel the hurt.
I do not apologize for existing.