A bump and a bruise,
a trip and a scrape.
I can no longer wear my cape
or be the hero you so choose.
I drink my tea,
leg-up on display.
I cannot feel THOSE toes
much to my dismay.
An open gown,
I am bound.
I frown at what could be
me
is not what I see.
A part of me lost
in aimless injury.
And the hunt for who to be
grants me the right to let go.
I can not follow
you home tonight
I must go.
