Poem: Frankenstein Scar

frankenstein

This is my body in the hospital bed.

It will not be awake,

nor will it be sleeping,

somewhere between a dream and nightmare.

This is my face with tired eyes.

They will not see clearly,

objects will be blurry,

forcing me to look elsewhere.

This is my neck wanting to be scratched.

It will not be the same,

the itch will find temporary relief,

remind me of what’s inside.

This is emotion consuming me.

It will not go away,

begging for attention every moment,

a place of more uncertainty.

This is my body in an unexpected situation.

It will find a home,

there will be an answer,

somewhere between predictability and surprise.

2019

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September 2019
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