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Broken legs a non poem

My bones are shattered porcelains

And Dr Frankenstein is recreating

My body from the toes up

 

I have more screws than tarsals

More plates than fibulas

More scars than cracked paint on derelict homes

 

Greens, yellows, blues, blacks and purple

Dye my leg in splendid hues

Plaster decorates my toes and pokes under my knees

 

Pins and needles tingle constantly

But these are made of steel as well as

Peripheral neuropathy

 

My hospital discharge form

Reads like poetry

Displaced tibea

 

Goes on adventure and brings back

Swollen instead of souvenirs

And crushed ligaments as testament

 

To broken steps they have fallen on

Perhaps it is not as profound as sunsets or romance

But I am finding beauty in pain

 

Intricacies in injury

And the limits of my creativity

To distract from nightmares

 

Of how this happened

And to drown out the hungry goblins

Deep in my guts demanding opiates

 

Like drunken teenagers

They loot my stash and trash my viscera

Legal or not I'm still a ******

 

Writing poetry rather than sleeping-

Confronting demons with stanzas.

Over screams I am armed with the arsenals

 

Of metaphor, personification and symbolism

Whatever the pain, my posse of poetry and prose

Has always got my back

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Written by
violet-wade
Australian
Published
Jan 12, 2013
Lines·Words
36·203
Permission

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