the first doctor to ask me if I could
lift my leg at the hip
was the first to see that I had broken it.
now my brain feels like a fractured ball socket
joint, misaligned and maintaining composure as I
feign movement, with all the aches and pains displaced.
there is no test, in this case, to prove
the sloshing of chemicals I blame while
I itch myself compulsively, while I check the
corners of my eyeballs, while I hear my name in
glared whispers. obviously I'm paranoid
about a lot of things.
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