I see that one arm is stubbed
by something. No one else can see
this, like it isn’t true.
To them, I am tragedy,
and I let them.
I am a hot potato
and they drool over food.
My crippled hands shove their
mouths full of muscle.
They like it raw
So, I give them my back bone
to gnaw on,
they snap it like baby pea stock.
I spend two years in the ground,
done with legs
I buried myself in dirt,
living with termites.
The thing about termites that no one else can see,
is that they aren’t true. To them, we are tragedy,
and we let them.
I could have simply pressed the “like” button, but I actually wanted to say “I like this,’ because it’s pretty damn good…
Thank you! I appreciate that you took a moment. Coming from you, that means a lot.
It’s funny. This is a piece that I’m much more fond of than most anything that I write, yet it has received quite little attention comparatively. It’s in the way people see the world, or have seen the world I suppose. Either way.