left as a newborn
in the hospital,
I learned early
love is conditional.
the snap of a voice,
like a rubber band at close range,
the rawness of anger,
like a sharp edged razor,
the sting of impending loss,
the tape plays in my head.
no matter my age,
the loop repeats,
there is no safe place
for damaged goods.
this has become sharp and poignant... love where you have brought it.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Joanna...
ReplyDeletelove this poem, Judy.
ReplyDeleteTruly cutting and pointed. "Snap of a rubber band" brings me right there.
ReplyDelete