a remedy

SARU POTTURI

i haven’t felt too well today. it’s not my fault: it never is. don’t say i’ll shine: i’m just like clementine, falling to pieces, pieces. recess comes and smooths my creases out: i’m tonguing at my gums. i bungled it and tumbled down and they said: humpty, one more round. and all my cracks are welded up in silver: a kintsugi of its own right. it’s not my fault: it never is. and kindness lies heavy upon my spastic shoulders, smiling boulders,

and i just grow older, older. and i keep soldering: i smolder smoke with no flame, growing colder. growing slowly ever colder. i paid my debt in loneliness and said, and said: enough, enough. it’s not my fault, but then it never is. tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace. and i’m saving face: my saving grace the clay that molded me drip-dripping i sold my fingernails off for a chance at peace. it’s pieces, pieces held in place by held in place by held in place by—