Last Nail – A Poem

I am a child and they drive a nail into my cheek.

But it doesn’t hurt because I believe.

Steel pierces upper cheek,

a metallic sinus infection and no vitamin C;

the next nail, through my chin between the two clefts,

penetration and perseverance.

The last nail,

my forehead splits open, iron additives

to gray matter.

A t-shaped shadow covers my eyes,

a wooden perception filter. I do not see and I believe and I do not hurt.

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