It happened again

by Sal Haefling

sinking holes below a library
government documents adorn
shelving untouched in five or more

collapsing whispers in hallways
far apart and so distant
from the fury that abounds

present day arrivals
soaked in soiled linen
and buried deep inside of my
neurotransmitters as they
battle to the death

skin shrinking once, twice
three times it stretches outward
flowing out like an old fashioned
pasta maker
of tears and false hopes
from this
one little blue and white pill

frightened and calling out for
help and pleeing for not guilty
while this surrounds my intestines
and caresses my nerves with impending doom
free me from this disarray of confusion
felt before, felt now, and happening again


Posted on 09/30/2011
Copyright © 2020 Sal Haefling

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 09/30/11 at 10:00 PM

Some really good lines in this thing. Nicely done.

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 09/30/11 at 10:21 PM

Being alive sure can sometimes feel like crawling on razor-wire just to breathe. Your poem caught my breath. Welcome to Pathetic

Posted by Meghan Helmich on 09/30/11 at 10:54 PM

Just as awesome the second time around.

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