Monday, August 12, 2013

Ribs (broken, not king or spare)

The indignity of agony
As bone grinds on bone
And muscles tense
Is not lost on the me that
Observes all,  and winces
Not from the pain,  but
From the shame
of weakness seen
By others
The jolts of a broken cage
Seeking to reset itself
Inhibit conversation
Prohibit activity
Embarrass and remove
The protective layer of
Projected image that cloaks
The weak self within
Swearing and sweating
I am driven through the dark
To doctor new,  where I remove
My shirt and show my shameful
Flabby form in hopes of relief
That will not come
Nothing heals ribs but time
Sympathy just makes it worse
So all I do is swear and curse
And sweat and moan
And wish for peace
That will not come
And regret my fall
But nowt will numb
My ribs

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