Crutches

When I call they answer and I feel as if I can breathe.

They are my oxygen tank.

My crutch. What I lean on after I inflict myself with two broken legs.

Why did I break my own legs you ask? Its because for a while I couldn’t imagine a world where I could walk on my own. Using my own legs. Taking steps towards my very own something.

How could I even have a some thing.

So I broke my own legs and when their broken I call on all of my friends so that they can bring me crutches.

This week no one answered the phone. It just kept ringing. I kept redialing the number, but no one would come to the phone.

I asked myself what am I to do with two broken legs. I can’t walk on my own.

I had this this thought, however. I wondered if perhaps my legs were actually broken. They felt broken no doubt but what if they weren’t.

If my legs weren’t broken then I wouldn’t need crutches. If my legs weren’t broken then I should be able to walk.

I should. Be able. To walk. On. My. Own.

I start to walk. Slowly, then I began to pick up speed. I’m almost at a comfortable jog. Then I get tired. I’m trying to catch my breath. That’s when they catch up. Their all apologizing for missing my call. I tell them its okay because my legs work and I don’t need crutches anymore.

As I look into the distance, I can almost see it. My very own something.