poetry by j matthew waters

the cure

you spend the day in suspension
hanging upside down in dark cave
high frequency white noise
keeping you breathing freely
your thoughts increasingly lucid

bandages wrap your beating heart
covering unresolved feelings
wounded by your own compassion
for someone in your distant past

when it’s time to let yourself go
breaking free from the ceiling
empathy is allowed to sink in
reconnecting with a virtual bond
able to absorb your true identity

december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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4 thoughts on “the cure

  1. I love this so much. It’s exactly how I feel.

    And now I’m going to listen to The Cure and keep being Batty. 🙂

    (That’s a Fern Gully reference, by the way.)

  2. Pingback: a grumpy gift: the cure — jdubqca | hands in the garden

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