What holds my body together?
Is it sinew,
binding muscle to bone
and bone to bone
so I can move in
sporadic directions
with assumed grace?
Is it glue,
globby and messy
as I pour more on
to keep my posture
upright right
and mouth from
curling down?
Is it an invisible hand,
like that of a master puppeteer,
pulling my strings
so I dance along,
a marionette without music?
Is it magic?
My legs feel heavy
and my arms stiff.
I’m moving without recognition.
Even now, I type
these words but feel disconnected.
How does my index finger know
where to go?
Why do I keep typing s instead of a?
I know when someone loses a toe,
their balance is thrown off.
I wonder if something similar happens
with a lost finger.
Perhaps I would type as if my
ghost appendage still existed,
skipping letters in easy words
as my body and brain
tried to reconnect.
We are all just neurons, right?
Neurons firing away constantly
as we try to process every sight
and sound and bodily movement
so seamlessly,
it feels like something more.
So It Goes 