Pulpy Neurons

my stillborn son

my dad’s death

my mother

mary

comforted me

~

a year later

unravelled

my mom’s ovary

a cyst

the size of a grapefruit

~

no sweet crystals

could mask

my sour pulpy eyes

ripping through bitter

achey seeds

~

Pulpy Neurons

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20 thoughts on “Pulpy Neurons

  1. your words
    stirs me

    makes me want
    to write again

    your drawing
    etch a mark
    in my mind

    makes the faded sketches
    of my lost memories
    come to life again

    sorrow is a
    bittersweet burden

    though one might want
    to pass the chalice
    without taking
    a sip

    that would be
    a mistake

    in retrospect

    life could not be
    what it is

    without loss

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