If I

a poem about holding it together

If I…

…pull on this nerve here, and that nerve there, and those ones over there,
straining each and every fibre that binds skin to bone,
relishing the pulsating energy,
the raw throbbing electricity 
skittering along the supple strands.

…collect the almost infinite ends and tie them in a knot, freakishly tight,
pulling them so hard I threaten to shatter anyway,
my outer stretched taut, 
my inner tense,
nerves jangling under tension.

…reside in my flesh when I’d rather expand to fill the universe,
that vast, wide, interminable, universe in which to soar, to fly, 
My atoms stretching their bonds thinly,
vibrating freely, 
filling the infinite space.

…gather inwards, bruising muscles to compress my soul,
the now perfect tightness forcing the world to bounce off me, 
my essence protected, gathered neatly 
behind twitching muscle
and pounding blood.

…steadfastly pull the edges of my ever splintering self inward,
holding tight the fragmenting shards, melding them, uniting.
Maybe if I apply all my effort,
if I try hard enough, 
I will stay whole today,
And not unravel. 

If….	

copyright T. Chennell 2024

I haven’t written a new poem for what feels like a very long time. Not one that made it from brain to paper. Not one that I’ve finished. Not one that I’ve been happy enough with the stop fiddling and tweaking it. I’m not sure even now that it is good enough. That it fully conveys what I want it to. But it’s beginning to get over worked now and lose that little spark it had when I started. I may write a separate version. So I suppose I need to be brave and push that button. Talking of buttons ….

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(Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash)