break me down. 

please, i’m begging you. 

decompose me 

so that i’m in 

my simplest form.

disassemble me and

rip me up

so that maybe

when i see my pieces;

my parts;

my ears and elbows

and quirks

sitting side by side,

mingling, but never joining,

maybe then

i will know 

what god was thinking.  

was his heart sinking,

as he mixed up this

concoction of 

body and mind

and soul?

or was his curiocity that merciless?

did he understand how dangerous

a large nose

and an absence of confidence

would be?

maybe.

or perhaps

he just knew

nothing was going 

to stop me 

anyway.