My heart, powered by batteries,
Cold and plastic-hard
It doesn’t beat or make a sound.
Let me go now to where I desire.
To where I long for. For
My lungs, enlarged; infected,
They lift me up and help me float
Far from my troubles, chest up. Back to the earth
And back around again, back
To where I never slept.
My skin, dotted with steel meteor impacts.
Sink holes, raised scars
That will sit with me forever, in the light and the shade.
Broken veins and pink-hot cannula damage.
My baby who doesn’t breathe.
Who never did.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
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