is it the repetitive pattern of my will
that tears and traps
how many ways 
to live
to try again

bitter  
that first gulp of air
though they slapped me
natal skin turning blue
premature legs pulling taut

i hesitated before birth
another Grand Cross
to bear
who would wish it

but my mother says
i chose to open wide my eyes
mouth wailing 
to finally accept
to breathe
to put these dry bones
back together again

god, it hasn’t been easy
but i’m still here