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Broken
by Kim BennettBroken
Theres terror the size of a small child holding my hand
as news of a new diagnosis stumbles hastily from the doctors mouth.
I can see disbelief soaking into the wrinkles on her face
with a slight frown and panic in her eyes that none had discovered this plague before.
I hear key words I will only remember later when frustrated at my inability
to commit to memory the name of my newest curse.
The scourge hiding like a lion in a thicket for four years,
with golden brown eyes, invisible to those who never learned
to search the sea of dying grass.
The word surgery thrusts my mind into motion.
Images of my arm pinned to my side,
my journal leaning, lonely against the wall,
empty pages acting as the epitaph for my arms.
With pens stationary, lasting longer than they should
unable to express my panic as I need an elder hand to hold
while pleading
not this, not the same pain.
Please dont take my muse,
weve only just started to heal to break again.
10/04/2007 Author's Note: I've been having some medical issues for the past year where it has caused me to not be able to write. And I just learned a week ago I might need to have surgery to fix it completely, which would me not being able to write again, and that's very scary.
Posted on 10/05/2007
Copyright © 2024 Kim Bennett
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 10/05/07 at 01:05 AM You've expressed fear, uncertainty, and pain with great restraint underlining a sense of loneliness and frustration. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/05/07 at 04:31 AM God, I don't even want to imagine going through that. You're brave as hell, though you may not know it. I sincerely hope you continue to write for a long time. |
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