Slice My Throat Silent

slice my throat silent

knife on neck

you block my tones

a ‘wanna be’

the song

i’ve always wanted to sing

stifled with

the cut

the drains

and

staples

they tear away my hope

that one day

i’d

sing

for

you

a stupid wish

with no place to fit

body would have never needed

to create the cancer

a reason for the preventative rip

 

slice my throat silent

knife on neck

your brow

and shaming

it blocks my truth

my story

the thing that happened

with no words

and no place to put them

the slice

it

shuts

me

up

and becomes

all the story I need to tell

slice my throat silent

knife on neck

you win.

NOT

you didn’t know

when plans you made

that my song

find

its

ways

through

SCAR

TISSUE.

never thought it through, did you,

that my story

is still as real

when

buried

by

a

fresh

wound

as it ever was before.

slice my throat

yes you may

and I sing

just the same.

my song

has

never

been

housed

in

vocal

cords

alone

cut me down silent

And

still

I

sing.

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The Post Surgery Gift

The Post Surgery Gift

Written two years ago, wobbly and foggy headed. Written from hospital bed high above the Seattle skyline. The surgeon had taken my thyroid, then a second surgery on heels of the first to stop post-surgery hemorrhage. Had a hard time stabilizing, day six of bed-bound hospital day of jello and broth, and out from behind discouragement, Goodness peeked around the corner, reminding me of my amazing life. Here’s to all of you out there struggling along, with an occasional patch of color peeking through the grey.

Jello red it shines
in Pudding bowl and waiting
And chicken broth, a golden hot that warms me

All IV places swelling, bruised
Electric shocks into my hands
The wound from surgery still pains
And pressured chest from walking

But still, red jello shines
The golden broth it warms
And beauty sings above the pain,
A song about my life.

Her eyes they brown as chocolate brown
A smile wide and joyful
His careful placing of the cuff
and working on the details
Raw I feel, and wobbly
Too many days no shower

But still, I see
eyes bright and kind
One working on the details
And beauty sings above the pain.
A song about my life

 

Thank you Marcelo Leal for the Image.