Legs can break
One thousand fractures to femur and fibula
I cannot stand

I hobble awkward and too slow
Places once grasped easy now too high to reach
I beget nuisance everywhere in my wake

This break
Cast in plaster of frustration
Glued sticky with anger and guilt
The bones cannot set

How will I leave my footprints on the sand for
…..others to see when
I cannot walk?

These marks left here are
Not mine and also not Divine
But made by those who
Carry my broken body
See me
Feed me
Reach for me
Connect me in pain or love

Offering accommodation
They give me their good
If I accept it
I can learn to run

Notes from the interview that inspired this poem:

Having suffered two major injuries in six months, this medical student was reflecting on what it meant to have a physical body. She was grateful for the relationships in her life with her sister, her husband, her nephew, her classmates, and her patients and their role in helping her in recovery. However, she was more used to sending out positivity and support than receiving it so this perceived negative impact on others was difficult for her. She was open to the idea that she was meant to learn something from this experience, but not sure yet what those lessons were.

Interviewee: Anonymous, Medical Student
Listener Poet: Yvette Perry

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