This body, not mine
Will soon be cut
Again, soon be sewn
Again, soon be bled
Again. Gurney up the hall,
Vein pierced, lights shut,
Gurney back down to
Consciousness, or something like it.
When my fingers twitch
Search for yours, my body
Will ache, patchwork chest
Morphine veins.
Kiss the children, picture
Sex when I was whole, sleep
Again in that chair, aching back.
Tube down my throat withdrawn,
Food hard to swallow, conversations
Hard to follow. Laughter
Displaced. Fear old,
Dissipated. Pointless
Dreams, soft sobs.
Discharged. Disassembled.
Broken body, not mine,
Aches to feel electric.
Bring it back. Bring it back.
Copyright 2011 Liya Khenkin
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