February 27, 2012

• Burn Unit

  I'm sitting here when I should be working, reflecting on recovery after pain. My body is an odd compromise between health and disease. I rarely get ill or injured, but when I do, it takes forever for me to recover. A simple heel bruise can make me limp for a while. And I've been thinking about how often our bodies, hearts, and minds are united in an odd dance. The way I exercise is the way I think is the way I eat is the way I love.

  Eventually, like the octopus, I regenerate my missing tentacle. The hurt fades, and the new part grows in. But while waiting for that burned unit to heal and grow again, one wonders why it takes so long. Time is short. Time spent licking wounds and wearing casts could be spent instead moving forward. Fat accumulates from disuse, and rust limits one's movements when the burned unit finally heals and the fresh skin appears once more.

  This is filled with disjointed word pictures and slapped-together collages, much like my brain...

  • 3:13 pm
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