Scab

[Mutatis-Mutandis]

It clatters across the floor,
the small victim
of my poking and prodding.
It is gone now,
what was once a part of me,
yet another piece
disconnected, removed,
Dead. It is good that it is gone,
though, I remind myself.
It was dead before it hit the floor.
I move easier now that
the weight, however small,
is lifted. Beneath is clean, healed,
New, this time my former
black companion failing to
take anything good with it.
Still, it was a part of me.
I pick it up,
and throw it in the trash.

[Delta40]

How well you express that we are still in an odd way attached to the dead bits of us that fall to the floor...

[zhannochka]

Feels like I just threw out sometime of sentimental value.. and not of the good kind.

[everyadventure]

I WANT to like this, but all I can think is: EWWW. That said, it takes some degree of skill to write lovingly of a scab.

[Varenne Rodin]

I suppose there can be poetry for everything. This one had a large amount of gross out factor for me, but if that's what you were going for, you did it right.

[Mutatis-Mutandis]

It's a part of my reality.