A swift crack to the head and suddenly I'm off my feet again.
A bit of paranoia settling in.
A lingering sense of regret over things unsaid.
Things I might want to give to friends just in case I never see them again.

A quick jab to the ribs and suddenly I'm taking it all in.
Seeing the importance of it.
The implications of knowing where to begin.
Beginning again after everything else has come to an end.

A clenched jaw with fingernails digging in.
A slip of the tongue that should've been bitten off.
A song sung while lying in a field thirty yards from the bar.
A poster hung from the walls of the place where we used to live.
A bit of bone sticking out from a sawed-off limb.

A fist hits me in the stomach and suddenly I can stomach anything.
The twists and turns and cigarette burns and the lessons twice learned but never accepted.

This is how it starts.