Thirty degrees to the left,
a quick snap, impulse, jerk,
quickly to the right,
with a resounding pop.
The world looks funny, when viewed
askew, slightly to the side, but
the tension has gone. A quick movement
of hands, in concert,
another few gunshot snaps,
a quick shrug of shoulders,
spinal alignment,
pop.
Strangely awake,
after viewing the dawn,
but still coughing up bile.
The focus, a moment of zen,
in red,
The focus is wonderful,
but looking down, at my hands,
I see nothing but blood.

11/04/2003

Author's Note: Here is the burning eyes... Addendum: This is me describe a habit I've developed of popping random places on myself. I'm in no way espousing breaking other people's bones...

Posted on 11/04/2003
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