—I’M CRACKING EGG SHELLS WITH A PEN 

 

 

This is Me Now

 

 

My legs have lost it, giving themselves up like snitches, useless stilts that might as well be stacked in a corner or attic. Just ask my Bestie. He couldn’t even hoist me waist-high once I’d tumbled. Ask the tile, the curb, the curtains I almost yanked free of their rings. That’s what it’s like to be me now, my penmanship a leaky ship, runny shit, fingers stitching themselves with static electricity. This is me now. A hairless vole. A boney bitch with a hitch in the knees, Pinocchio backward feet, dialysis stuck in neutral, wondering if this really is me now, and if so, who will love me?