Fractured Homes

Art By Beray Uzunbay

by Greta Torelli


scar tissue

protrudes less

as do angles of deprivation

down a spine

now a backbone ready for snapping


this body of work

evidence of healing

hides fissions in my nerves

of disrupted childhood games

blue sirens in our driveway


while writing

recollections resurface

tears surface,

and I place palm to breast


a check- up

I am my own doctor, my own healer

I feel the running heart punch out,

don’t run, dear little heart,

fill my veins,

fill me with feeling,

so that I don’t cut them open

and check for poison inside


This piece was published in print as part of Lot’s Wife Edition 4.

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