as I bash my left elbow for
the eleventh time today
but this time something’s different –
I feel the collision
travel up my arm without pain, and
a hairline crack spreads,
splitting into multiple branches.
Cradling my injured arm in horror,
I start to run, but this only
accelerates the process.
It reaches my face, so I stop,
and a piece of it
like a china doll’s,
turning in midair
so that my own eye
stares back at me from the sidewalk,
a shard of face.
It looks sad and confused, as if
it knew this would happen someday.
I bend over to pick it up,
and my unattached eye acts as a mirror, showing
that my insides are hollow.
My skin is cold porcelain to the touch.
I stand riveted
as one eye stares back at its twin,
until I suddenly crumble,
scattering my shattered self
on the concrete.