Our bodies a massive series of interconnected tissues that record history of scares, injuries, accidents and time spent under a florescent light in sterile dwellings of sadness. Wheeling our stories in and out of blood lines capturing another time when life disappeared more fluidly. Modern trajectories heave souls to remain where they want not. Holes in our skin causes holes in our heart a cavity impenetrable.
What is life a sequence of events as scalpel extract congealed plasma from his leg one year at a time. Each visit more is gone of his leg and being, he is leaving in flesh with his flesh looking at black globules splattered on the ground.
Ah!...that hurts.....oh!.....don't do that.....my leg, MY LEG!....
Ouch!.....as his hand reaching into the air for strength, for help, for a drug that will assist this hell.
My daughter bedside breathing, puffing air in and out of her lungs. I hear her does it register this stupidity she is urging me to copy. Others watch in horror hear my angst.
Puff.....inhale in slowly then hold 1, 2 fuck it, blow out. Again.
Puff .....inhale slowly and out.....Inhale in and out....Ah! why did this have to happen. I'm pissed off at my condition.
I can't figure out how to place my good foot, my left foot, ahead of my right when walking with the walker. I try....I hear their advice.....off in the distance it comes at a cost.....I am ashamed at where I am. My wife, anyone but me should be here. This is fate getting me, my sins....I laugh....I know it is my life getting me back....but I have to laugh.....there are others around judging me......I know my decisions haven't been sound. How to stop the speed of time.....there is so much to do....so much my wife wants to do .....and my body is failing me.
This bloody walker gets caught on every minute edge, crack, rug, a slight bump in concrete, in my agenda. My body heaves it up and over into another realm.....I am calm eyes closed I can feel the ocean.
In bed again, thank God.....the heat of the afternoon light streams in the bedroom window washing over my body the shame I feel having to be bathed like a babe, helpless, hapless. I am warm for once in this city.....did I really want to come so long ago.....I know we wanted to go back....it never happened. Now it is too late.
The bank has called again, the store, the meetings I am missing.....can I possibly catch up....did I ever think I would be here, others have been before me, why is this so foreign, perhaps this is my time.
Food is obsolete I eat as I am told, little flavor contrasts the metal staleness of prescriptions. Christ my pills I have to take all five of them now. Light purple is for my heart, 2 pink ones are for blood thinners, the orange for antibiotics, the yellow for pain, and the white for high blood pressure.....a new condition to my dyeing body.
Borrowed time this is my time! Christ says he has a purpose for me, at this late stage what could possibly arrive into a womb so gnarled. Ashes to ashes dust to dust, is it really here versions of it are arriving on my mind daily.
My family knew the man that I was, the man that God was transforming me to become, the man that somewhere along the route got lost. I am here now, this is me, wounded emotionally, physically, psychologically, and perhaps spiritually, but I will get it back. I need him. I need him to place a memory in my family's heart of who I am in his eyes.
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