I think of my skeleton as a
canker, burning hollow in
a deep, deep cave.
My son cries about my skeleton and
I tell him,
“hush now! It is just bones.
It is just white, not blood or bed.”
And it is not.
I have a long, thin canker and
I have a man with knitting hands.
He wraps me in warm stitches;
in strong pursuit.
He points me with pressed thumbs
just enough that
I pound with his heartbeat.
I am a canker and he is a mouth hosting
an ulcer. He cleans,
cauterizes me with searing tips and
I cry about my skeleton and he says,
“hush now, it is just bones.”
But, it is not.
OH! your pain just leaps out of the screen and grabs me and shakes me leaving me cold and dark!
Beautiful Maggie Mae. Just beautiful….
I so agree with willowdot21
painful, dark and mysterious!
Talented. Yes you are.
love it maggie
I have nominated you for the Beautiful Blogger Award. Should you wish to accept, please go to my site and follow the instructions. Congratulations!
Awww!!! Thanks so very much! Congratulations to you on the award as well.
A deep psychological wilderness ~ Hypnotic! Sincerely Deborah
This was hell of a BLOW!
I loved it 🙂
Keep Writing 🙂
Love how this poem lingers just beyond direct meaning. Artful. Thank you. Renee
I am so loving this.