Face Leaks Clear Fluids

A journey through self-pity.

Face leaks clear fluids of varying viscosities.

So wronged.

So, so wronged.

My fault, their fault,

A force of nature, his fault.

Never wrong, never right,

But law.

Lips contort and spasm.

So pitiful.

So, so pitiful.

Arms missing from this space.

One breath,

One warmth,

Echoes gasps.

How large this room is.

Spine, femur, fold over, under.

So weak.

So, so weak.

Sleeve feels spined on face,

Swipes across, punishing, hiding.

This is not adversity.

Adversity does not allow folding.

Adversity holds needles above spasming lips.

Dam them, dam the clear fluids.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed