Tuesday, August 29, 2017

scar tissue




The rosebud one:
Οf high speed and high on new life,
In a garden full of rose bushes;
The equation features accident waiting to happen.
When child too eager to smell the roses and oblivious of  thorns.
Got it luckily right on the eyebrow -a later attractive imperfection-
Three stiches, no remorse, no crying. A braveheart.
The "do not trust what looks and smells beautiful" exercise.
The jump out the window one:
Clear statement of a girl amongst boys,
A super girl plan that turned out 
Destroying an Easter celebration.
Intoxicated adults in panic, running the
Party-pooper to the hospital. Real bummer.
Seven stitches, a resurrection, and a late massive attack
On a cold, by then sacrificial, lamb.
The "it is not the same being a girl" lesson.
The balance beam one:
Though I could somersault into the clouds
While gravity again had the other plan
And landed me on a hard one. Five stitches.
Tried it again, many times, till I succeeded.
A medal injury. The "fail again, fail better" exam.
The deer one:
A close encounter, "who is the boss", type of.
Defense versus spontaneity; not a match.
Six stitches and an afterthought: the "do not expect others
to accept what you expect" doctrine.

And the "think before you act" test.
The baby one:
By appointment. Prep, epidural, cut, 8 am and out is
She, who was too attached to the womb to do it on her own.
Twenty stitches, for a gasp of air. Wound not accounted.
The lesson of "life and love". 
The breast one:
My life or that thing.
Not by choice, not by impulse, not by pride.

Just by force. Stitches never counted.
The "chance, choice and synchronicity"
Dissertation. Where the three graces can turn into
The three curses, anywhere and anytime, anyhow.

No comments:

diagnosis

My photo
i have nothing to declare, but a can of tuna