Katrina Kaye

Perhaps the only way to heal
is to open the wound.
Water is not always enough
sometimes fire is needed.

Let the sting of disinfectant
sizzle and        smart until  
toxicity subsides.

Extinguish the bacteria
that spreads and breeds in
darkness with alcohol and fire
and antiseptic              burn. 

Promises of reform alone
cannot drive cells to rebuild.
Hopes and prayers and well wishes
do not flush a wound.
They merely dismiss it:

leave it coarse

allow the infection to spread
until it becomes

intolerable

untreatable

consuming

permanent. 

The wound may have
awaken the body, but
the wound must be tended
for evolution to begin.

And evolving is what is needed
in order to heal, to move forward,
to become. Only action can initiate repair.
And repair is necessary, even
if it leaves a scar.

Do not be afraid
of the scar that remains.
It is proof of survival,

of healing,      

of resilience.

It is proof growth is possible.

The scar defines identity and
gifts a narrative to the aftermath
of trauma, wear it like a metal.

Treat it like a blessing.  

 

“Disinfect” is previously published in Door is a Jar (2023) and “no longer water” (2023).