I am but a shard of self, fractured and pieced out, parsed out
One foot in front of the other, head down
Moments of sheer panic, is today Wednesday? Or Thursday? I can’t remember. I’m missing something, the world has moved but I was stuck, my foot caught in a crevice and I cannot know, I do not know where I am. Please hear me.
Waking at 2 in the morning to hear the house mock me, my terror at my failure a rising tide of bile in my throat, running my fingers over the crest of my hip bone, a rosary in flesh and stone.
I only wish to slip from this skin and put on another’s. Things spin, a web or a dervish, and in the center I stand in slow motion and try to catch my breath, my world a seesaw quivering and unreachable.
