I feel the meat of myself, the fleshy bits of personality
Setting with purchase once again to the skeleton foundation
Left bare for a time. A great, terrific wave of life, the amalgamation of
Grief and loss and love and duty and exhaustion that
Time blended together all at once and rushed toward
That current of fragile self. That crashing, toiling weight tearing
All but the sturidiest pieces of who I thought myself to be,
Washing them to their sedimentary settlement Bygone.

Now a hungry, rattling, airy thing I am, shouts and drools to be fed.
A present of consumption is at hand, and who I am but a servant
To the needs of me? The bones need meat to feel whole,
Fill holes, and it matters not from what source that marrow
Drinks, and chews, and gouges. A season of fat shall come,
And bones sing to the insulation and warmth it will bring.
Let me be whole again, and the new me brace for life's next wave.