small town crier

by wednesday's child

my shoestrings are strung out with the stretch marks of an addict
on the floor. i watch as the heat drives the mercury up the wall.
i feel a vein surface like a blue whale on the skin of my forearm,
as the nurse harpoons it with a needle. i am saddened by how
blood runs away from the body, as impulsively as a mad child.

Wednesday's Child is a member of our Bipolar Disorder community, and originally posted this poem on our Forum.