Survival

Heel to nose, back broke
And worn, pained, kicking
Up into the back of the brain
Where you thought you'd protected
Yourself,

There is a certain sight.
You've come
So far. You'd normally be broken,
And deposed, and insane,
And reaching into the back
Pocket of "I used to be like this,
And see what I deserve?"
Like a sad destiny played
Out once more.

But you're not. You're strong.
You've gotten over what you couldn't have imagined
You'd get over, ever, never
Thinking for a moment that
It might.
Not.
Be your fault.

And all the horses and
Kings' men and moments
Couldn't put you together again,
But you did. Immediately. As the breaking
Happened, as your own skull was shattered
In front of your eyes
While you begged it not to be, BEGGED.
You stood strong.
(Or laid supine, as it were, but only
In comical and physical expression.)

You waited for a moment.
A moment you thought you wanted
So bad, so hard, that you thought would never
Come, and if it had, you thought
It would redeem you,
And be more than you thought.

But it was. Not.

In the very moment your whole life
Focused on for months, you
Were shot
In the back
While sleeping.

And awake,
You got up, you put on your clothes,
You brushed off the latex and shame
And you carried on
Without weeping, without
The prerequisite rending of garments
Like you should have,
And here you are.

Again, at the start,
Fresh wound to
Stir you on
And on, and on