My chin is blue

And green. and black, and purple.

The pattern of my fall starting

Underneath a scab. I’m lucky not to have bitten

Straight through my bottom lip.

It’s hot to the touch today, the third day, and

Scabbed, the bruise is deep.

My bottom lip is swollen, I speak oddly

Still to my ear.

And I’m fascinated by it all

Because my life is boring.

In a moment of dull routine on Saturday and in the tediousness of health maintenance, I took a walk—and now I feel old. I tripped.

My face bears the marks of a swollen lip, and bruises of purple, surrounded by pale freckles. There is something almost otherworldly about my chin.

I was assaulted by the ground, with the cement hitting my face and my chin taking most of the damage. So much blood!

I am disfigured but healing more quickly than I imagined. No broken bones or chipped teeth, and my nose is fine, surprisingly. No concussion.

What stings the most at the moment is my pride. For toddlers walking is an achievement, a rite of passage that symbolizes growing independence and confidence.

I must not lose balance and independence. Life comes full circle.