Spinal Con-fusion: A Poem by a Survivor
By John Gregory Evans | Featured Author
There remains
a deadened,
freezing,
almost an anesthetizing
sense of dread
upon my fingertips and hands,
reaching deep into my leg’s nerves,
shattered spinal cord,
peeled away
as one peels an orange.
Walking,
now a challenge,
con-fusion of the fusion,
cervical cord,
Ruptured and bruised,
arrogance of the humanity factor.
Pain
within the eyes
like lightning fingers
to the crown
of God.
