damage

simmering volcanoes
don’t look in the mirror
parasites are biting their feet
and it hurts,
and they hurt,
and on it goes deep

and the toll is taken

you might have a heart,
a fill-in-the-blank,
an incident, an incitement,
a shrapnel piece lodged somewhere within,
a mouth clamped down
over the wound, —
and though it’s raw
you’ll insist it’s not real

and the toll is taken

and in brute time,
tender collides with
old adages,
walking on hot coals,
on eggshells,
stumbling in the darkness

and the toll is taken

::

11: NaPoWriMo and Real Toads
(am reading Andy Stanley)

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14 thoughts on “damage

  1. It’s a haunting song, and your poem intensifies the mood. I love best of all that uncompromising title.

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