I really wish there was a fast forward in healing but u think we'd have missed out the learnings then. Once again, your words flow eloquently and with the grace of your wisdom. Beautifully written, as ever.
The imagery here is felt down to my bones. I feel that sensation of wanting to crawl out of your own skin. The discomfort of healing is a shared sensation by many. Such vivid words. Thank you for sharing.
I like the poem’s message. I don’t have much else to say other than that. But it made me think. Which is more than a lot of other stuff I see on the internet.
What amazed with me is how persistently you try to negotiate with healing.
The poem keeps reaching for removal: rip the bandage off, scrape away the dead tissue, wash the mind clean, begin again. Yet each image quietly reveals the same obstacle. The wound is no longer separate from the life that contains it.
What I found compelling is that the poem never settles into the familiar arc of triumph. It does not claim that suffering was a gift, nor does it pretend it can be erased. Instead, it keeps narrowing the scale.
By the end, the wound is no longer the story. It is a slice of the story.
That distinction feels small until one realizes how much changes inside it.
The opening frames pain as spectacle, something watched, consumed, and repeatedly narrated. The closing lines reclaim it as experience rather than identity.
For me, that movement carries the poem’s deepest insight: healing is not the disappearance of the wound. It is the moment the wound ceases to occupy the entire frame.
Thank you Dipti, that's it exactly. The story is one familiar to us all, but what inspired me go write was a catastrophic "wound" that came to define my life, with all of its reverberations and corollary effects. It still echoes today, and informs my present circumstances. But seeing it as a chapter instead of a reason to explain the present is what demanded this be written.
There is something quietly powerful in recognizing that an event can continue to shape circumstances without remaining the primary lens through which those circumstances are understood.
What struck me in is not the disappearance of the echo, but the change in your relationship to it. The wound remains part of the landscape, yet the poem seems less interested in the injury itself than in the space that has opened around it.
That feels hard-won, and the poem carries that weight with remarkable restraint.
Gash…what an interesting word choice. “Scrape the necrosis from my flesh…” starts to feel like a prayer. This one hurts to read, but that’s the point, yeah?
Yeah lots to unpack about this as a whole… maybe poetry is the best way. Reading your stuff, I can’t thing of anything else that would be better as a coming-to-terms.
I really wish there was a fast forward in healing but u think we'd have missed out the learnings then. Once again, your words flow eloquently and with the grace of your wisdom. Beautifully written, as ever.
Thank you imi
The imagery here is felt down to my bones. I feel that sensation of wanting to crawl out of your own skin. The discomfort of healing is a shared sensation by many. Such vivid words. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Allison
This is raw and intense, with a powerful push against being defined by past injury. <3
Thank you Petra!
"A tale grown stale in the retelling" -- I really liked this sentence. I liked the personification and the rhyme of tale and stale.
Thank you Niraj! It's a favorite of mine as well
The gradual descent from abstract descriptions into the physical is great! Gives it some extra feeling.
Thank you Seb!
I like the poem’s message. I don’t have much else to say other than that. But it made me think. Which is more than a lot of other stuff I see on the internet.
Thank you Matthew, I'm glad it did!
Weary of these wounds- I am working on improving and healing my wounds love this — 💝
The imagery here is among the strongest I've read in your poetry. You continue to astound!
Thank you Mike
What amazed with me is how persistently you try to negotiate with healing.
The poem keeps reaching for removal: rip the bandage off, scrape away the dead tissue, wash the mind clean, begin again. Yet each image quietly reveals the same obstacle. The wound is no longer separate from the life that contains it.
What I found compelling is that the poem never settles into the familiar arc of triumph. It does not claim that suffering was a gift, nor does it pretend it can be erased. Instead, it keeps narrowing the scale.
By the end, the wound is no longer the story. It is a slice of the story.
That distinction feels small until one realizes how much changes inside it.
The opening frames pain as spectacle, something watched, consumed, and repeatedly narrated. The closing lines reclaim it as experience rather than identity.
For me, that movement carries the poem’s deepest insight: healing is not the disappearance of the wound. It is the moment the wound ceases to occupy the entire frame.
Thank you Dipti, that's it exactly. The story is one familiar to us all, but what inspired me go write was a catastrophic "wound" that came to define my life, with all of its reverberations and corollary effects. It still echoes today, and informs my present circumstances. But seeing it as a chapter instead of a reason to explain the present is what demanded this be written.
There is something quietly powerful in recognizing that an event can continue to shape circumstances without remaining the primary lens through which those circumstances are understood.
What struck me in is not the disappearance of the echo, but the change in your relationship to it. The wound remains part of the landscape, yet the poem seems less interested in the injury itself than in the space that has opened around it.
That feels hard-won, and the poem carries that weight with remarkable restraint.
🙏🏻
Wonderful reflections. 🌹🕯️💙
Gash…what an interesting word choice. “Scrape the necrosis from my flesh…” starts to feel like a prayer. This one hurts to read, but that’s the point, yeah?
The point is actually to not let the wound define you, to understand that pain is a chapter in life and to grow despite it. Thank you for reading.
Yeah lots to unpack about this as a whole… maybe poetry is the best way. Reading your stuff, I can’t thing of anything else that would be better as a coming-to-terms.
Well done!
Thank you Miles!
Yeshhhh sirrr!
"A slice
Of my life"
Fantastic final line, Mike!
Thank you James!
I would have restack-quoted but the final line is too spoilerish, hahaha!
Even though it echoed beautifully with the first line…
It does kind of give the game away lol, but I couldn't resist! Appreciate you James
Excellent as always Legend. Strong.
Thank you Prima Domina
Moving past the stories that define us is a quiet victory. Love this.
Thank you Gabriel B!
Beautifully expressed. This matters so much right now.
Thank you Priya
Absolutely stunning. Well done. 🙌🏻🌀
Thank you