At 3, I broke my leg
And again at 5.
This would cause my leg to be an inch shorter than the other the rest of my life.
7: My brother pushed me into a wall and cracked my skull
Somewhere near that same time, I shattered a pane a glass in my hands, requiring stitches
At 15, I thought it was smart to push a bag of broken beer bottles into a dumpster with my hand.
I set a car on fire hitting a deer at 70 mph, his antler coming inches from my lung
I fell asleep behind the wheel of my truck and totaled a mini van
I drove someone else’s truck off the road getting a new engine for the other
But it was better than the ice, the oncoming car, the gas main, or the fence post
I snapped the front axle of my rainbow Buick twice before I finally killed it
Each time, I walked away with just scratches
In 2006 I cracked 2 of my vertebrae taking a snow boarders jump with a sled
I sliced myself on metal tracks at one job
Even plastic containers have left their mark on me
I tore my ACL, trying to be stronger
(And because of that former leg injury)
And added a hernia appetizer
I earned carpal tunnel, trying to be brilliant
And just make more sense of all the broken
What hurt most were the 2 who wrecked my heart
Deeper and more scarred than any other pain
I am covered in little visible and invisible scars
The older I get, the more I collect,
The more stories I create
I did not slow with age
Just kept ramping up,
Making more as I give less shit
I am always littered with scratches, cuts, and bruises
Because I never stop long enough to worry about what damage I am causing
I’ve don’t bother with stitches anymore
I am held together with pure will and imagination
That old adage, “What happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object…”
I refuse to yield
Surrender is not the answer to that riddle
It’s to go around
I bypass
I imagine it doesn’t hurt
I find every other way
I’d rather keep going. I’d rather keep racking up battle damage
I go through my life with a sledgehammer
Knowing full well how many times it comes down on me
I am so very broken
I am always just barely holding it together
When all I want to do is fall apart
I keep putting the pieces back together
I am a maker
Filling in the holes with stories
Today, I walk with a lean, sometimes a limp
And ignore how often it hurts
My body is deformed and full of tally marks for every decision I have ever made
One day, my body will fail me for the last time
It will yield long before I do
All those cracks will finally show
And out of me will leak
All those stories
For everyone who helped me make them