I thought I knew what I was,
what I wanted,
who I’d be.

But time reminded me
of my mortality.

Accidents sculpted.
Limbs punctured.
Secrets spilled.

My foundation slipped out.
The mess was astounding.

Broken.
Bruised.
Battered.

Onlookers scoffed.
Kin took perimeter,
shielding me within.

It was there  
I remembered
who I’d been.