The number of our destruction smacked us in the face, But too many didn’t want to see. They liked the words they heard, Shrinking their

Reclaiming my inner badass at 50
The number of our destruction smacked us in the face, But too many didn’t want to see. They liked the words they heard, Shrinking their
grief the connective tissue webbed between each bone dangles unresolved from bleached ribs marbled shreds of tissue ruffling the edges of my open chest cavity
I am revisiting old poems today and came across this piece I wrote on April 6, 1988. I was a senior in college and finishing up my senior thesis