Protruding ribs don’t protect me. The bone turns brittle now. Skin glistens to a fault. Cognitive dissonance at play. What keeps me alive. I’d rather hang from my strings and collapse when they break. Have you known shame. Admire the aisles too hard to partake. Can anyone see me. Something clicks. Snaps? Breaks? I see myself the way I am. Dust and decay. Tears indicate change. I lean into the pain in a different way. Wanting better. Needing better. Understand. Process. Finally partake. I eat the cake. Appreciating the flavor, the meaning, the pain. Rewire, rewire, rewind. The strings tense up. I start again. Avocado, I swallow. Rewire, rewire. My strings don’t hold me anymore. There’s no tension. I walk on my own. Thankful for their temporary support. Keeping me safe and upright. They loosen and bend, tighten and clench. The never ending cycle of rewiring the brain.