Friday, December 23, 2011

It will feel good to burn in the fire
(help me on my way to hell)

It's impossible that you're alive
they all said
after the accident
that left me impaled
by (something)
through the chest
which should have left me dead

but I stood up and pulled it out
because (something)
doesn't hurt
doesn't make me bleed
doesn't leave anything behind except another hole
and the mysterious ashes
that make up the insides.

When the footage was broadcast on the evening news,
authorities were knocking on my door.
I showed them the hole,
they prodded and nudged the ashes with their batons.
It's impossible that you're alive,
they all said,
come with us.

Did I put up a struggle?
I don't believe so. I fell asleep
and when I woke up
the nurses were scared
It's impossible that you're alive,
they all said,
and began to describe my internal anatomy.

When did it catch on fire? They wanted to know.
My insides had been burnt and burnt again,
the ashes were piling up in layers,
they would soon kill me.
No, I told them. No.
It is the ashes that saved my life.

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