No idea

My bones cannot bear the weight - they crackle and drag.
They will break and I will fall.

Now I know:
once a miniature, insignificant piece of your life crumbles,
your whole life founders, heavy and black.

You try and put it back into you,
Stitch it
Glue it
Stick it on.
You press the pieces hard into your skin
but all they do is cut you deeper.
They do not fit anymore.

Like a miraculous statue, ghastly and noble,
Like a stupendous skyscraper,
Your life falls at your feet -
broken filaments of a life already broken.

I have not asked for this.
You can have all the pieces:
sweep them up if you want,
bury them in your back garden -
a memory of the mad woman
with snakes for hair and stones for eyes.

This is what
He
Made of me.
That invisible god.
Oh how I prayed and prayed and bruised my knees like children falling
on broken pavements.

The cry - my cry - hits the wall
and swallows me up.
I let the sea pervade my whole being;
the water cold and
the ravenous creatures nibbling at my toes, my hands, my cheeks.

I feed them my whole body, a feast of skin and bones
While the world goes on
Like a damaged machine
Screeching and screeching at its immovable faces.