top of page

"Rupture"

You want

the softest spot

in my left ventricle

opened,

the gentle gathering of

tendons on my wrist,

severed.

 

You press your fingers

into my edges,

crack them open

like a surgeon,

peer inside,

eat and toss

my nakedness,

leave a heel mark

as you turn.

 

How cruel,

when the perforation

has already occurred,

when my

accumulation

of love

has already

begun

to

spill

through

the

rupture.

"Rupture" first published in Hoosier Lit

Notes: This poem emerged from a moment of vulnerability when I first began putting my work into the world for consideration by readers and editors. I needed to reconcile feeling so open and exposed with voluntarily risking rejection and indifference.

     I am learning, of course, that my only job is to write and to send the work out. Instead of worrying about outcomes, I must trust that the work will find its way if it's meant to.

bottom of page