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About This Poem
An Eternal Absence
tears fall, heavy like an eternal absence
covered with bile in gastric snowflake patterns.
Did I say snowflakes? Really? really?
The inside of my stomach has huge claws of folds
twisted arthritic fingers, ever getting larger
digging their way inside and out
are they reaching for my soul?
I am not ready to leave Edwin.
I am surrounded by negativity
he fills up on it and brings it home
pouring it out on me.
"When your time's up," he shouts,
"your time's up."
"No, no, you don't understand" he insists,
"when your time's up, it's up."
I do understand.
I am going to have to apply
spiritual techniques
to myself.
Bring Spirit to lay upon the matter,
to cover it, to bleed upon it,
like wax covers then bleeds down wine bottles.
Where God is
there
no disease is found.
I still have to cook and clean
that much has NOT changed.
I WILL be losing those extra pounds.
Did I say no morphine?
Yes, Idiot that I am.
I was out side of the pain then.
You see me,
and it appears nothing has changed
but you cannot see
how much I am hurting inside
not sharp pain, and I am talking about pain,
but terrible hurting
deep hurting.
My organs cry out.
Father, strengthen me
I MUST live.
I am not ready to leave Edwin.
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