Hello....

"Hello, Ca......"
Voice trails off
A momentary pause
Eyes travel from the
hunched shoulders
to the wheels
carrying the patient...

appology stated for the loss of composure...
"I didn't expect to see...What happened?"

time to
explain
to this young
honest doctor who
actually cares..
making him
one of the rare ones...

the drugs
made my muscles
rigid
as the other doctor
accidentally
overdosed me...i guess...
they gave me too much
uppers...to keep a weary body awake
and make my muscles strong, again...
muscles weak, now,
the rigidity is fading
but
not gone
wooden muscles
(like that nightmare of the little boy's
legs
part wood
part flesh
i hate dreams like that...)

tell him how
my immunity seems to be down again
i know the symptoms well
the drugs that keep me awake
keep my body
from healing itself
infections
open wounds that won't heal
try not to fall
try not to get cut
or it will be bad...

he's smart
"why make another wound...come back if
more sutures are showing..."
old stiches
supposed to be internal
working their way from the inside
out
on what once was my
pristine
abdomen...

he cannot fix
the wounds on
my arm
too risky...why create
another wound...he's right, I know
i just have to accept
the cosmetic affect
of open sores
i guess....

my legs require
another doctor
a vascular doctor or something like
that
to maybe
try to make me
beautiful again
or at least
heal the
small ulcers that crater my
legs...

i am strong
inside
and will be again
outwardly...
the nurse
says
i am like the
energizer bunny
she did not flinch or show any suprise about the
wheelchair
just said she was sorry to see me
in it
doctor however
couldn't finish
saying my name
took a moment
to collect
his composure

asks if it is ok
to pull
the thread
out of the wound
i am all to happy to let him
it will hurt less later
and his skill
shows
comfort in
action
his skill at least
gives me hope
of this
healing...

but the wounds on my soul
and in my mind
will have
to wait.

Fragmented Dawn

Fragments fall
like the fiberglass working its way
slowly from my arm...
shrapnel from a secret war.

embedded truths
Of a reality almost forgotten
in the unreal haze surrounding it.

it seems like
none of this is real
none of it ever happened...
And I find this unreal sensation
Of walking in a dream
to be a blissful
Reprieve, in essence...
Lucid dreaming where
I have some control over the nightmare
And can guide a hazy figure
That is a symbol of myself
albiet haphazardly at times...

Perhaps this detachment,
This back-seat driving, if you will....
Is a wonderful survival mechanism...
It allows a body to muddle through
And in time,
perhaps awaken
to the fragmented dawn.

cm 3/15/06

Broken October

Broken october
2001
dear god if you exist
what have we done?

why does this child cling to me now?
her brother is worse, anyhow...fling her grasping hands
away...
to check the silent one...

broken dreams wrapped in wreckage

a broken mind hidden behind sharp bone
a story dies
another changes
one has yet to live
the ending, though, remains the same...

six, no, seven...

time is changing me...

memories come back
realizations come back
recollecting
once more seeing others views
painfully...

five years of heartache
i at once am recalling
the curse of forgetting
is one day remembering
or realizing the aches
in other's hearts
and in your own...
and in your own
all these hurts now reside...

broken october
broken lives
no one ever is the same
but the end remains the same
but the end
remains
the same.