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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Breaking Through

A tremor rests in my fingers
my exposed thigh,
with bevelled tip in line
I'm ready,
I think?

I prick,
suck at my teeth
"How are you doing friend?"
a clatter in the sharps bin
let's try that again

spritz, crinkle, rip, pop
I'm all lined up again
my lungs fill with courage,
and I hold
until I break new ground

Push, push, push
Stop.
That's deep enough now,
sacrificing air for steady fingers
I twist, push, I must keep it straight

It feels like...
Nothing
It glides through my skin
smooth as butter
'till suddenly, �a wall again

I angle back up
Now it feels like something
Its blunted,
which makes me feel the cut

One

� � �Last

� � � � � � �Big

� � � � � � � � � �Push

And I'm through