I hadn’t seen myself since I got older, but now as I looked
at myself I began wondering where I’d come from, where this person I’d sort of become
had been shaped, and if I was indeed a mystery to myself or if something inside
me had simply changed. I hadn’t known myself in quite some time and all the
pieces shifted, seemed to have become something else; something truly unlike
me. I could see how my bones moved beneath my muscles and everything seemed out
of place; it seemed like there was something that lived in me and used me for
its skin while I operated outside, carrying both of us. I was unsure if I’d
worn myself for some long time or if the person I was had simply formed around me,
and in fact I was inside myself somewhere, still making bones and putting them
in place; building a new form from the inside while the flesh around what I’d
been was remade, lumps in new places, until I was something different; until
the parts I recognized were removed and the something I had been shaped itself,
its eyes sharp, blinking my eyelids, shedding the last pieces so it turned into
my home, this house, looking out.