Remember and Rebuild

Focus peaks on this page.
Not a word misplaced
Not a syllable misused.
Just the intent, the page, and the hole.
I was born with a wound
At birth, a pain
Which childhood and innocence
Covered from myself,
One which time reminded me of
And revealed, now grown,
Infested, infected, and consuming me whole.
And it ate away, and dissolved the density of my being.

This hole shook me once and now again
This hole broke me once and now again
This hole changed me once and now, again.
It shapes me forever--intimately and infinitely changing me.
And a look down to its place over my heart,
My jerry-rigged and transitory heart,
Taped and glued over the breaks,
Rigid besides the damage.
And this hole and heart
Show me the humanity and frailty
Of this mark, which gives me hope for yesteryears
and days future to come--less sadness. More hope.

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