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
