Pain

Every day I am ambushed by gravity
the essence of me crunched like cereal
in a bowl.

I own time or, more likely, it owns me
drowning me in minutes that last light
years.

Broken electrical circuits signal me alive
moving with a lethargic crawl that has
been learned.

Pain replaces all of the bits that were me
so, invisibly, I hide in the shell remains of the
washed ashore.

Mind and memory combine to confuse breathing
with living, and living with not yet dying.

 

poem © copyright Brian Shirra 2014

 

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