dislocation.

I used to feel them both moving,

Creaking, caps of bone

Edging closer towards 

- pain, blinding pain 

One slip, a fatal twist and - 

It's surprising how much agony

A dislocated piece of you 

Can cause, that scream-inducing

Roaring flash of red 

Followed swiftly by tidal wave

Of sickly nausea, as you sense

Something

   Not quite in th

     e right place 

Your body becomes 

A ticking clock, but the hands 

Are bent inwards, scratching

The polished surface 

As they travel round 

Screeching against resistance

Slowed, and time shifts

Out of sync with the world

And so you cease to function

As you should - who are you?

A flawed human being, therefore -

More human than the rest? 

But the pain, endurable 

The dislodged lump of cartlige

Slowly slides back into place

No, there comes more 

The worst, the very worst

The very thought that this 

Is going to repeat 

Your tendons, stretched elastic

Useless against the fall

Faith in the limbs that held you

Gone, shattered -

Irreparable?

As he reached in,

Pulled me apart

With handfuls of muscle and

Bloody sinew, he tied me

Back together, functioning,

Flawless scars present 

A surgical shoelace, glued

With sharp metal screws

Back on your feet, 

There you go

And now I build 

Claw back that trust again 

Held together, yet still

My trust wavers 

Bones assembled like a 

Jenga tower in bags of skin 

I am uncertain 

Body, mind and soul resting

On those futile caps of 

Calcium, crumbling 

Waiting for that fatal slip - 

the painters are in.

Blood comes

Red splashed on white

A surprise once,

I never expected 

The unexpected again

But here it is, red

Thick, heavy

Unflinching, red

I stare

A week late, I figured

It might never come

Hoped, it might have realised 

It wasn't supposed to be 

Always an abstract,

No meaning, of little consequence

Besides a little 

Inconvenience 

Now, unlike that regular beat

Usually maintained, undisturbed

My heart sinks

Here it is

Unflinching, red

Red splashed on white

Resisting the inevitable is

Futile, but I can't help thinking,

Sooner than most

Maybe it'll move on

Decide that it's good for

Nothing here, in this body

That doesn't belong

A crimson smudge of

Womanhood, motherhood

Rites of passages that 

I no longer claim

Take it, take it, please

It brings, not a routine comfort

A smear of identity, no,

A sticky, hot reminder

Of who I no longer am

A place I can't return to

A void I have yet to fill

I am stained with 

Indignity, falsity 

And there's nothing I can do

But wait 

As the blood runs, red

Until it runs dry

And I can put the pieces

Back together again.