April 12

poetry

This back is racked with nerve pain
from somewhere in the hip I think
Making it harder to stand up
under the weight of gravity and
self-doubt and all the other things
that so regularly and traditionally
tend to pile about the shoulders
and dangle from the neck

Perhaps this pain will dissipate
in time, or perhaps it never will
and I will stand a bit less straight
until the day I never stand again

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