playground/src/posts/poetry/one-of-six.md

categories, date, tags, title, layout

categories	date	tags	title	layout
Poetry	2019-07-12 12:00:00 +0000	Introspective	One of Six (or Sick of Six)	poetry

Every now and then, I detach From the talking and the laughing.

My skull splits in two So that my right hemisphere Can peer into the left:

It finds my younger self, sobbing, For he cannot speak up And air his grievances Lest he inconveniences A heavily burdened family.

The grief drips down his bronchial tubes And festers.

We thought we would grow out of it.

But the grief grew As we watched its roots wrap around our ribs.