Poetry

156. wounds itch when they heal

 itchy little devils, tattoos

itchy little devils, tattoos

*

Wounds itch when they heal.

Patience is not a virtue I possess in ample quantities.

I dive in head-first into whichever hurricane is the loudest,
then waves crash me back against the shore once it’s finished.
The sea spits me back out, knees and elbows cut on sharp rocks.

 

Wounds itch when they heal.

Patience was never a virtue I could easily boast of.

As a child, I picked at the scabs and made them bleed again.
My mother told me off, slapped my fingers around, her heart wasn’t in it.
She was always afraid to hurt me, so I hurt myself.
The residual discomfort bothered me.
I picked at the scabs and made them bleed.

 

Wounds itch when they heal.

Patience is not a virtue I crave.

If I keep scratching through my brain in close enough intervals,
I know the gray matter will never fully heal.
You’ll always be close to the surface and easy to find.
A thought, a song, a scent ā€“ a thin coat of memory will resurface.

 

Wounds itch when they heal.

Patience is not a virtue I need to dwell on yet.

I still hurt in all the places
our sandpaper hearts chafed against each other.
The gauze I lift off the skin you’ve touched is never clean.

 

*

/inspired by Molly Nilsson and the horrible itching on my upper arm/

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4 thoughts on “156. wounds itch when they heal

  1. I simply find this poem amazing, along with most of other stuff you’ve written. I discovered this site by pure accident around two years ago and have been following your journals ever since. At the risk of sounding extremely pathetic, I would also like to add that I appreciate your work very much, which is partly owing to the fact that I can relate on a personal level to the experiences you present in your writings (well, at least according to my personal interpretations, which indeed might not be correct). I’ve been dealing with some emotional hardship lately and you cannot imagine what a therapeutic effect your art has on my mental state.
    This will probably seem a bit over the top, but for me it almost feels as if we’re friends. And I really don’t wanna sound creepy, lol, after all I’m sure you’re familiar with the feelings of sympathy and connection with the author one gets after reading a piece of writing that resonates with their emotions. Please don’t ever quit writing. Or photography for that matter. And thank you. šŸ™‚

    • Thank you so much! It seems a bit serendipitous, the timing of your message that is. I’ve been very busy during the last year what with growing into my new life away and new work obligations, and my writing obviously suffered. And just now I’ve been writing a short new piece prompted by both slightly more time and some unfortunate circumstances, and your message really means a lot to me in terms of getting it finished and continuing with my writing. šŸ™‚
      Also, I don’t think it’s creepy, so you don’t have to worry about that. One of my favorite books (Patricia Duncker’s Hallucinating Foucault) tackles this topic, the “love” / friendship between the writer and his reader(s), and the connection often goes both ways. I’m flattered you could find solace in what I’ve written and relate to it, even if it be the kind of comfort that only stemms from knowing someone has experienced the same things also. Sometimes, that’s the best we can do in any case, shape or form. So yes, thank you for the encouragement and I’m writing so there’s that, too. Looking forward to reading your comments. šŸ™‚
      M.

      • Well, I find it a funny coincidence that I bought the very same book you mentioned at a random book sale just a few months ago. šŸ™‚ Haven’t had the time to read it yet, though.
        I agree with what you are saying about the soothing effect of finding bits and pieces of your experience in somebody else’s story. I’m generally fascinated by artists’ ability to turn their pain into something beautiful and valuable. Also I’m making reluctant attempts to produce a coherent piece of text out of my own experience. Last few months I have invested some effort into writing long letters to the person who caused me months of pain and regret. I would never let him read them, but am seriously thinking about sharing them online anonymously. That is if i gather courage of course.
        Anyway, I’m glad my comment could serve as a sort of catalyst to your creative process. I really like the new piece and am looking forward to the next ones. Good luck with everything. šŸ™‚

      • Oh, I’m so pleased to hear about that – that someone else found the book, that is. I feel like it gets so little recognition, at least in my circle of friends and acquaintances, and it’s a most stunning piece of both literature and literary philosophy, at least that’s how it reads. Would love to know what you think about it once you’re through! šŸ™‚
        As for the letters.. I don’t have any words of wisdom there, tbh. Sometimes it’s enough to write it down to be done with it so to speak, to process your own thoughts and structure them in a way that allows for better understanding. Other times, and especially if you feel confident in the writing or feel the need to put it out there, make it known however anonymously, then publishing them on a platform where only strangers can see it and give you some feedback (whether it be about the writing, or about a more personal sense of acknowledgement and connection) is obviously a good choice. Whatever you decide, the act of writing is often enough to make a difference in any case, so I hope you feel slightly less weight when all’s said and done. šŸ™‚

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