soul dissection
a short poem about the self
i wish there were seams on my skin
so i could rip myself apart.
to tear my flesh, limb from limb,
until all that remains is a pile of spare pieces;
amidst the gristle and the blood and the bone
are fragments of me, who i was, who i am.
what better way to know oneself than through
such visceral vulnerability, brutal and raw
and wholly unique? they will never know me
like this, i think. no one will. i sit for a moment
and allow my thoughts to wash over me as the
pain mingles with peace and my mind goes silent.
This is poetry and it hurts. To read this and feel it ignite my organs with its touch, that is how I know it's poetry. Keep writing them and soon I will be an urn.
Your poem is excellent; I admire your extraordinary way with words. I love the creation of such clear and vivid imagery in your poem; the lucid pictures painted with your powerful words conjure up a whole complex interior world that pulls at the heartstrings. Putting words to the intangible is a challenging task; you definitely have that gift. Thank you for sharing this beautifully crafted poem. You are quite talented with the written word!