Wonderful Scar

When you are balancing the leaves on a backyard

tree leaning over the railing

you are standing on,

all the blood that has gone to your head

disagrees with the bricks that its spilling on.

You awaken to words not ready to hear.

The dogs put to sleep,

your brother no longer is here.

But Thanksgiving is coming

and you have such a wonderful scar dear

When you are jumping out of your sensitive skin

for seventeen years shivering only everyday

from the wood shops and fig trees

and fingers gone missing secretly strange.

You balance has vanished,

you wake on concrete in a daze.

While you were unconcious,

the quiet ones crowded the stage.

When you are choking on fire

you are breathing the south

in front of your friends house too late.

All the ashes are flying beside her tonight

uncovering everything.

All the sickness built up in your body over

so final and suddenly.

Back-sliding through tunnels of light,

come alive while putting your life to sleep.

You awaken to words not ready to hear.

Unrecognizably perfectly clear.

But Thanksgiving is coming

and you have such a wonderful scar dear.