The first time I was punished
for no Earthly reason I could explain
I let loose
and split my middle knuckle on my bed post.
The frame lifted up
shifted
the opposite parts of the wood
smacked against the wall
scratching the paint.
I breathed heavy.
My right hand trembled.
The beginning of "never again."
The skin was peeled to bright pink.
Blood seeped and sought air
in little fired balloons
gaining altitude.
I worried I would never be able to
use it again.
Worried I would have to explain
when I was let out
why my hand was swollen.
Why homework would not be easy.
Punished again. For what?
Stare at it.
Stare at it.
Lick it.
Get better.
Get better!
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it.
I screwed up!
He is going to kill me for this.
The paint.
Is the bed alright?
The door was unlocked but I knew
setting foot outside
was a near death sentence
as close as I knew death to be then.
He will take me within an inch of life
and then some more.
Breaking distance down
to an infinite closure of life and burial.
The sob. The sniffle. The intakes opened.
Instead of sound
born power.
Unlimited power
then. To destroy.
Lick the knuckle.
The fractures ran deep.
Wailing on a tree until the aluminum bat looked
like a boomerang. Jack and I walked home.
Into the teeth of a dragon. Stopped often to piss
and cat call at birds and whatever sat in gutters
or lawns.
The first knuckle to be blown out
healed crooked. The others followed.
They all match now.
I laugh because it is good to laugh.
Fracture after fracture. The skin peeled
like a sardine lid
back then.
Now it is too thick to peel with a single blow.
Permanently deformed.
"Permafucked."
Eventually the joints will seize with scar tissue.
Eventually the wrists will begin to fuse.
Time will become fuzzy and lose resolution
no matter the actions taken to preserve fidelity.
I will look at my knuckles and not remember
where they came from.
