This is your heart on the ground, razor edged splendor and linoleum, smash glass against the wall and rejoice in the shards. You are mismatched, mistaken, and deceived. You are both complete and incomplete. Bend your own bones into stars and the shape of the sun, knowing that they are beautiful, and concrete brick and stone wall, knowing that they are strong. Your mouth shapes words you've been instructed not to say. That pounding call to war you feel against your ribcage is your lungs breathing in, out, and in again. Your hands are trembling right now.