glancing back over time

From that moment

on it was different

the kind of

different you don’t

really recover from

you don’t get

back to normal

whatever normal was

and some days

are just a

dull reminder that

pain is a

strait-jacket full

of razors the

sleeves and bindings

tight and restrictive

a recollection of

what once was

the taste

of the first

tear as salty

as the last