The Cut

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
When we make a mistake...

Submitted: August 15, 2015

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Submitted: August 15, 2015

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The Cut

Cold steel
bar after bar tumbled
dominoes marching,
rattled fury bite,
then pain oozed into
my brain.

I touched my cheek
warmth cheek of a clown
smeared life.

Elsewhere now
they made me give up
naked, just this smock
bright light
was circling my face.
Each needle probed
angels on a pin
to deaden
to make the skin shouts
numb.

I could eat the sky,
suck that orange
sour I feel
but I’d rather be
moth wings
digesting self.

Clean it out,
whose responsible,
the boat of infection
scurrying
wash like waves
beauty,
beauty,
you will hardly notice,
we pasted it back on.
The stitch
did not close
the heart
and old darkness
became my friend.

B. Garth Steinhagen


 


© Copyright 2019 B Garth Steinhagen. All rights reserved.

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