a failed olympian

I envision the inner-workings of my body as a jigsaw puzzle, a maze of fragmented pieces. Many that don't fit together, unless positioned in its designated place. I've given pieces away, I've taken some for myself, and had some confiscated from me. All to end up losing this little body of mine. Though to whom do they belong? To the flickering light behind my eyes or to the one who could sign me a check. Amidst the rubble of my fractured identity, I live inside myself, gluing together this jigsaw, despite losing this little body of mine.