Sunday, May 29, 2005
Opening Pandora's Box #9
This story starts here.
Crack my ribs open
Time for open heart surgery.
Every procedure starts with a needle violating skin.
The safety pin advances towards my ear lobe
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7…
The eighth hole, scattered, unevenly spaced like the others.
Swiss cheese pattern of decorative jewels in a starry sky.
I hit my sister today and she cried.
I see her cherub cheeks with the bruise I left,
her teary jet black eyes.
They say you never let go of grief.
Instead, you just learn how to live with it.
After each attempt at resection,
The tumor of this tale regrows in my head.
If I learn to live with it… learn to live with myself,
perhaps this story won’t eat me alive.
(to be continued)
Crack my ribs open
Time for open heart surgery.
Every procedure starts with a needle violating skin.
The safety pin advances towards my ear lobe
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7…
The eighth hole, scattered, unevenly spaced like the others.
Swiss cheese pattern of decorative jewels in a starry sky.
I hit my sister today and she cried.
I see her cherub cheeks with the bruise I left,
her teary jet black eyes.
They say you never let go of grief.
Instead, you just learn how to live with it.
After each attempt at resection,
The tumor of this tale regrows in my head.
If I learn to live with it… learn to live with myself,
perhaps this story won’t eat me alive.
(to be continued)
Comments:
They say you never let go of grief.
Instead, you just learn how to live with it.
that is my favourite part of this touching poem.
those lines are so true..
Post a Comment
Instead, you just learn how to live with it.
that is my favourite part of this touching poem.
those lines are so true..
