Pardon Me

(Poetry) I’ve seen too much, the scalloped layers hot to touch.

Photo of Annie by Pam Powell (circa 2012)

Greetings from limbo.
I’m floating between 
islands of knowing.
 
I’ve seen too much,
the scalloped layers 
hot to touch—cord taut, 

full of rot, nerves shot, 
hollowed out, head down, 
walk the street, stare at my feet.

Bah-dah-dum, 
bah-dah-dum, 
bah-dah-dum.  

Draped in salmon cotton,
I break up the twisted sheets 
of fascial adhesion.

My hands are so full 
of myself, the fused bands 
of muscle remember

death's merciful pardon.

I have sold my body—
not as a prostitute,
but I have sold my body.

I learned the hard way,
the cannibalism of labor
can hollow you out 

and I'm worth nothing unfed.

Have I learned yet, not to
break myself just to prove 
myself unbreakable?

That I am better soft than dead?