for my ima

people by nature are headstrong.

and we run straight into

what plagues us.

our bodies make sick slapping

noises as we smack

into our issues.

feeling them slice into our bodies

and cut apart our organs

we take it in, become it

and let it pass through our being

and then the problem is behind us.

our motion never stops,

we simply come out on the other side

in pieces.

and begin the healing process.

but some separations never truly heal

and for the rest of our lives

we must grip that piece to us

to keep it with us.

we exist, divided from our bodies

every day is an effort to keep

from simply falling apart

and the tension in our limbs never relaxes

for fear of leaving something important behind.

like the chunk of hair you keep

firmly tucked behind your ear

because it never reattached after

he ripped it from your head.

or the blood you wiped up off the floor

which now stains your jeans

or my heart, which fell straight out

of my chest when you left--

these pieces accumulate.

in old age, it is a struggle to even walk

we carry so many pieces with us

our skin hangs like spaghetti from our arms

and our hands clutch it to our bodies

our back is hunched to stop

our stomach from dropping to the floor

and we kick along our heart.

not able to leave it behind,

not yet ready to reaccept it into our bodies.

but stopping is never an option.

we grin and we bear it

through our physical plight.

we pull our pieces close to us

and we go on.