deepundergroundpoetry.com

All the tattered threads

 

I’m wide open
in a dentist’s chair
listening to words like
plaque and dental cement  
 
how I’ve got good teeth
for my age, and I note  
it’s not the same
for my folks.
 
I’ve a jagged edge  
on a wisdom tooth
 
sheered right off one day
crunching on a sherbet
in the car
 
stabbed me in the cheek  
for two weeks while I waited
to get the damn thing  
filed and filled.
 
I think of how easy it is
to fill in the cracks  
of the body
 
how all of me is mended  
with pills and plaster
 
because  
that’s what humans do
 
fix it
until the fixing wears away
then re-dress exposed rust
as if it’s the wing of a car
 
 
 
 
you’ve patched for so long
can you remember what it’s like
to be vulnerable
 
to be seen

 
 
Written by Northern_Soul
Published
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