Tough Love
Coagulated threads patch
& pull on my soul case.
A barn cat or a scruffy boy
cannot pick this one off.
I need dagger nails & some muscle –
an abusive marriage or a hard
addiction slumped in the alley.
My oldest wound wants to breathe
new, wants to bleed out
& remember why it is.
On the seventh day, me &
my wound & my scar
will sit quietly together in
the shade of an evergreen tree.
Blood will stay in body &
hands will settle in pockets.
The three of us will know
our real names & wonder
about tomorrow.
Coagulated threads patch
& pull on my soul case.
A barn cat or a scruffy boy
cannot pick this one off.
I need dagger nails & some muscle –
an abusive marriage or a hard
addiction slumped in the alley.
My oldest wound wants to breathe
new, wants to bleed out
& remember why it is.
On the seventh day, me &
my wound & my scar
will sit quietly together in
the shade of an evergreen tree.
Blood will stay in body &
hands will settle in pockets.
The three of us will know
our real names & wonder
about tomorrow.
Cyndie Randall works as a therapist and lives among the Great Lakes. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Crab Creek Review, MORIA, Okay Donkey, Whale Road Review, Boston Accent Lit, Yes Poetry, The Night Heron Barks, and elsewhere. Connect with her on Twitter @CyndieRandall or at cyndierandall.com.