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Vivisection

Thank you former flame
For cutting me open
Letting me see inside
And scoop parts out
With cold colorless clarity
Doesn’t look much good
But now I can
Rearrange what didn’t work
An exchange is made
Anatomical accuracy is sacrificed
For an aesthetic appeal
Me but without motion
No longer spiraling down
Safely stuck in place
Drained dry of danger
Now comes the art
Reassembly into something new
Maybe former beauty restored
That would be niche
Could fill me up
Rather than left gutted
Not the only regret
But one for sure
You’ll never see it
Not scarred nor shaped
But were you here
And I still whole
Would I have seen?
Could I have learnt?
My hope and reason
For words you’ll miss
Maybe there’s a way
To have these parts
That I can be
Comfortable again at last

Avouleance 4 July 27
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2 comments

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Excellent. Like @ProudMary said, I feel it.

0

If I get the gist of it, that's a well-worded poem about blame, guilt, loss of spontaneity, re-packaging and inertia. Not many of us can get these ideas across as well as you have.

brentan Level 8 July 27, 2018

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