creativity | healing | poetry
I could trace the outline of your soul
Well, I could try but it moves
Like when I broke a thermometer as a girl
And the mercury was so slippery
And my mom told me stay away because
Mercury is poison.
But I wanted to play with it!
It was all deftly thrown out.
Pushed off the table.
I was always worried about glass thermometers after that. About putting them in my mouth.
What if my teeth clamped down and the poison spilled into me?
What if it stayed inside me and made me slowly die?
Mercury is a lot like abuse, isn’t it?