deepundergroundpoetry.com

Scabs


I.
 
in the late 18th century  
the term scab was used  
to describe anybody  
that wouldn’t join a union
or refused to strike  
 
wounds walking around
like regular people
 
a dichotomy of living
and need
 
II.
 
the worst scab I’ve ever tended
was a cigarette I put out on my arm
aged twenty, full of fear
 
burnt skin doesn’t heal like slices
 
little red halos turn white
 
the world buzzes for a moment
 
nothing but silence
and weak knees
 
III.
 
every piercing I’ve ever had
has been a gut punch  
 
I remember my nose bridge
a year of tending punctures  
with salt water, wiping crust
from an entry point
 
sometimes I’d get pierced  
to dull the fall out of getting hit
 
I have 25 pieces of metal
 
you do the math
 
IV.  
 
at night, as I lay in the dark
I think of my heart as cut
and raw
 
tough steak for the living  
 
wondering if it pumps blood
or if I’ve patched it  
 
nurtured it
 
healed it one slash at a time  
 
Written by Northern_Soul
Published
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