FLEDGLING- Issue Two (07/26/2020)
Image Source: Mason Taylor/Simon Taylor/Flickr
Written by Grace Nask
A single misplaced word that
Sends it crashing down. The slow decay of
Dead friendships festering. The tricks and lies and betrayals and searing hot pain.
Each come as a
Terrible wound, bloody and bruised and aching. Killing.
To reach the problem, they numb me but don't
Knock me under. They make me watch.
They say they want to help, but they
Tear my skin to ribbons with their scalpels.
They go deeper and deeper, eradicating the old
Disease with something new, something bleeding and infected. When I
Look at my reflection, I don't see myself.
I just see the wounds.
They come, one by one with needle and thread for the blood running down my body. Each give
A single stitch. A smile here, a gentle word there, a helping hand
To grin and laugh beside me. It takes
A dozen people to close one cut, but
They do it. They sew me together again.
The pain flares every time I see the doctors, but I
Lift my chin and smile at them.
My skin will scar, but that's the beauty of the
Body: even dying, it always knows
How to merge itself back together again. It may not
Always succeed, but it always knows.
Author Bio: Grace Nask is a Hufflepuff who wishes she could turn into a cat. She will be attending the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference in the fall and will also have two poems titled “The Power of the Sun” and “Twinkle, Little Star, Until You Fade Out” published by Down in the Dirt Literary Magazine in December. One could learn more about her by visiting her website at https://gracenask.wixsite.com/books and her WattPad (under Grace Nask) and Facebook (as Grace Nask’s Books and Manuscripts) profiles.